


The Sun and the Moon

by Xanthorhiza



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Character Death, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 35,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27370801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanthorhiza/pseuds/Xanthorhiza
Summary: I don't know what I'm doing starting a new fan-fic, I never finish them but hopefully this time I will. Please have faith in me.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 24
Kudos: 42





	1. Baz

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing starting a new fan-fic, I never finish them but hopefully this time I will. Please have faith in me.

**Baz**

The first time I saw Simon it felt like staring right into the sun.

He was so bright it hurt my eyes, yet I couldn’t seem to look away. I didn’t want to, look away, that is. If it was humanly possible I don’t think I would ever willingly stop looking at him, but staring at someone without stopping is not normal, it's more stalker-like behavior. And I’m not a stalker. I might be disturbed, but I’m not a stalker.

We were fifteen when we first met. The teacher told us how he just moved here, and then he was thrown into our class with seemingly no preparation at all. It took me a second to pick my jaw off the ground for me to realize how uncomfortable he seemed to be. I felt bad for him, I would have been uncomfortable, too. I remember his eyes looking down at his feet and his calloused fingers were fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

He looked so pretty, but so out of place. At the same time, I found myself no longer being able to imagine the classroom, or even the school grounds in its entirety, without him being there. 

When I finally managed to stop staring I realized I wasn’t the only one that seemed to be captivated by Simon Salisbury. Just about all of the girls in class were batting their eyelashes at him, flicking their hair over their shoulders and reapplying their lipgloss. The only girl that didn’t seem to fall head over heels just from looking at him was Penelope Bunce, but that was to be expected.

For me it was no surprise to see Simon become popular almost instantaneously. He wasn’t exactly the most popular since he wasn’t a part of a sports team or anything, but he was definitely popular for both his looks and his kind personality. What was a surprise was when Simon suddenly started hanging out with Bunce.

It went from zero to a hundred very quickly, so fast that people even started spreading a rumor that they were dating. I never believed it. It wasn’t until Simon was caught kissing Agatha Wellbelove outside the school gym during an assembly that the rumor about him and Bunce immediately evaporated. This is also when my resentment for Wellbelove began. 

She never actually did anything for me to hate her, at least nothing she was doing on purpose. It was the moment I found out about their budding relationship that my heart broke, and I hadn’t even really accepted my feelings for Simon. I didn’t know how to handle my crush or my apparent broken heart, but one day I snapped. I punched Simon Salisbury right in the nose.

He didn’t say anything or do anything against me for me to actually justify throwing a punch. I just happened to walk up on him and Wellbelove kissing in the hallway and then when he turned to his friend to say something I saw my chance.

I remember him looking at me with a surprised look on his face as he firmly clasped his hand over his nose. I could see a trickle of blood running down over his chin, and I remember regretting it immediately. I _liked_ Simon, I didn’t want to _fight_ him. Then Simon punched me right back.

That day we both ended up in the nurse’s office, him with a bloody nose and me with an oncoming blackeye. I wasn’t angry or sad, even though my eye was swollen and throbbing. All I felt was a twisted sense of hope - I now knew how to get Simon to notice me. 

This day was the first time we all got to see Simon 'go off’. 

It became a saying around the school, that if you piss off Simon Salisbury he would ‘go off’ on you. By now Simon has ‘gone off’ on me so many times that I’ve lost count. I still get a rush from being so close to him, from feeling his skin against my skin. I don’t even care that it's his fist against my face, it’s still some sort of contact. By now I usually never punch back, I mostly hurl comments at him to get him to go off. It usually works. 

I know I’m pathetic, even disturbed, but I know this is the only way for me to ever get close to him, even if it hurts to know how much he hates me. 

Today is the first day of my last year of high school. I’m standing in front of my bathroom mirror facing a decision. Should I say goodbye to my now healed and smooth skin, or should I give up my charade of hating Simon this year? 

I don’t like the cuts and bruises that I get from our fights, but when I’ve looked at them in the past I thought of them as a reminder of Simon having touched me. I’m sick and I probably should seek some kind of help for my irrational behavior, but I don’t really care. All I care about and have ever cared about is Simon.

I carefully comb through my black hair and watch it fall over my shoulders. It’s still damp from my shower, but I refuse to damage my hair by using a blowdryer. Even if my face used to be full of bruises I always have tried to look as presentable as possible. I try to dress nicely and keep my hair looking shiny and sleek, not that Simon would care how I look. I like to think that he does, but that’s nothing but a fantasy.

I feel like the right decision would be to start the year off right and try not to push his buttons. Every fiber of my being is begging for me to get him to touch me, but I don’t think I can handle being hit by the person I love anymore. 

When I walk into school I’ve decided to do my best to refrain from the temptation of making Simon go off on me, but I know it might be tough. 

If Simon’s not in my class I always try to sit closer to the from, preferably at the very front. But since we’re in the same classes for most of the time I’m mostly seen sitting in the back, just like today. That’s my only way of getting to look at him, by sitting behind him and admiring his neck as he stretches it and thinking of how soft his hair at his nape probably is.

He walked in with Bunce by his side as always, but something seemed to be off. He doesn’t shine as bright as usual. Not that he doesn’t look good, he always does, but his eyes aren’t as happy as they normally are.   
When they sit down two rows ahead of me I can’t help but listen in on their conversation. 

“Simon, it’s been a month. Why are you still so… broken up? It wasn’t like Agatha broke up with you, you broke up with her, remember?”

My heart stops. Simon broke up with Wellbelove?

“I know, I just feel bad. She got really upset, you know? You know how dumbly I said that I didn’t like her, and then I had to scramble to try and explain that I like her but not in a romantic way.”

“It wasn’t dumb, it was totally valid. You’re just not into her and that’s okay. It’s better to be honest than just staying with her because you feel bad.”

I start to tune out after that. I can’t believe Simon actually broke up with Wellbelove. They’ve been dating practically ever since he moved here so it’s been like a solid three years. Has he just lost his feelings? Does that usually happen after three years? People, including me, thought that they were going to last. 

I can’t help but feel a little hope, but I do my best to crush it. 

I have a hard time concentrating the entire day because of this new and sudden information. I try to see if Wellbelove seems bothered, but they still have lunch at the same table and to be honest, she seems to be more okay than Simon. It’s kind of ridiculous, how much he cares. It’s one of the things I love about him.

At first, I don’t realize our eyes meet, but when I zone back in Simons eyes are dark and his brows are furrowed. I know I’m in trouble. I don’t want to fight him, especially not today, so I quickly gather my stuff and leave the cafeteria as fast as possible. I’m not fast enough.

“Pitch.”

His voice is dark and I can’t help but gulp. I turn around hesitantly in the middle of the hallway to look at him and my heart shatters. I can’t do this anymore.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He says as he makes his way over to me. 

“Nothing,” I say and I hope he doesn’t hear my voice cracking. I back up against the lockers as he gets closer, and when he’s so close I can feel his breaths on my face he stops.

I say nothing, what could I even say? It seems to catch him off guard. He looks at me with a confused face and his anger seems to momentarily dissipate.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” He scoffs. “Since when have you not meant to offend me?” I understand why he doesn't buy it, even if it’s the truth. 

“I swear I didn’t, I’m sorry.”

He takes a step back and looks me right in the eyes, my heart flutters.

“Whatever,” he mutters before turning away from me and disappearing into the cafeteria.


	2. SIMON

**Simon**

That was strange.

Baz has never once apologized to me and it caught me off guard, more so than I care to admit. I don’t know if he meant it, it feels as if he might have said it to keep me from hitting him. At the same time, he has never tried to get out of it before, so why start now?

I remember the first time we fought. I don’t remember if he said anything, but I clearly remember him punching me in the nose out of nowhere. At least it was out of nowhere to me. I remember the throbbing pain in my nose and the taste of blood in my mouth. I don’t remember punching him back, I don’t remember anything up until the principal pulled us apart by our shirts. 

I don’t hate him, at least not for his personality. I don’t even really know him, but I hate that he seems to know me enough to know exactly what to say to make me go off. I often thought he was doing it on purpose, and I still sort of do. But at the same time, why would he seek me out to purposely get hit? I never found an answer.

With both the breakup last month and the usual stress of school starting again I didn’t feel like continuing our ridiculous feud. I was set on just avoiding him until graduation, but then I saw him staring at me. His eyes were cold and grey, as per usual, and his stare of steel immediately had me boiling inside.

I was ready to go off in a second, but his silence made me stop. When he then suddenly said that he didn’t mean to ‘offend me’ I got more irritated. Not because what he was saying was mean or rude, but because his words didn’t make sense to me. Why did he choose to apologize now? How can I trust that he’s telling the truth when we’ve been hating each other for years?

None of this makes any sense.

For the rest of the day, I didn’t find him looking at me again, but somehow I couldn’t stop staring at him. I excused my behavior by telling myself I wanted to catch him looking again, but something inside of me was telling me that that was a lie. 

One week later and I’ve only caught him looking at me twice, but not even one of those times I felt threatened by his cold stare. It didn’t even feel cold. Instead, it was soft, maybe even shy. To be honest I was more confused than ever and it made me frustrated and even uncomfortable. What changed?

All I know is that something was going on, and I had absolutely no idea as to what that something could be.

“To start the term nicely I’ve decided that your first assignment will be a project done in pairs.”

My classmates start to snicker around me, and I immediately lock eyes with Bunce to make sure she’s thinking of picking me for a partner. Suddenly, our teacher clears his throat loudly to avert our attention back to him.

“To make it less enjoyable I’ve decided to pair you up myself, and no, no exceptions will be made.”

Groans fill the classroom and I can’t help but feel as if our teacher looks a little smug. 

“As you know we are currently having the great honor of working on-site at the culture museum nearby. I have divided the different sections of the museum amongst the pairs and your assignment is to prepare a presentation of your section to present to the class on-site.”

With every word he says my interest in the assignment decreases.

“I have made a list of the pairs and your assigned sections which I will post at the end of class on the board. I will not stay to listen to complaints and if you have any questions they can wait for the next lesson.”

He doesn’t seem to like kids, but not many of the teachers do. Whatever.

Not much later the class comes to an end and my classmates are all shoving their way to the board to find out who they’re paired with. Some people sound happy, others make noises of distaste. I really don’t look forward to seeing who I’m paired with seeing as Penelope already shot me a sad look from across the classroom.

As people start to leave I finally pick up the courage to go and check the list.

I wish I hadn’t.

‘Basilton Grimm-Pitch and Simon Salisbury - Clothing and furniture’

I want to say that it was entirely unexpected, but with my luck, I can’t honestly say it was. I feel my stomach turn into a stone and it’s heavy and it hurts. I kind of feel like vomiting. I close my eyes and I take a deep breath. It doesn’t help.

“I can do it by myself.”

Baz startles me and hearing his voice makes me jump. I turn to look at him behind me and I raise my eyebrows. I can't lift just one, so I think I look more surprised than judging. 

“I know I’m not who you’d want to work with, so I’ll do it and put your name on it.”

He sounds sincere, and I don’t understand how or why.

“No, that's... It’s not necessary. We… Um, we can do it together, I guess. I don’t want to get a grade I didn’t work for.” 

I don’t know why I said that. I should have accepted his proposal. I should have just taken that amazing opportunity of not having to spend any time with Baz. But why didn’t I?

He looks taken aback, and then out of nowhere, it looks as if the smallest smile known to man makes an appearance on his lips. 

“Okay, if that’s okay with you then it’s okay with me. When are you free to work on the assignment?”

Why is my heart pumping so hard? It must be anxiety. 

“Well, uhm, I don’t really do anything besides go to school and maybe study with Penny so I’m free most of the time, I guess.” I feel pathetic admitting it to him, but what was I supposed to say? That I had to check my calendar or something? Noone has a calendar these days, that would sound even more pathetic. Not that I care what Baz thinks of me. Not really.

“Well, I have soccer practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, so Tuesdays or Fridays, or even the weekend, is best for me.” 

I already knew he plays soccer, but as he said it I realized I had kind of forgotten about it. Not that I keep tabs on what he does. I guess I don’t really mind adjusting to his schedule, since I don’t really have anything going on. Now I feel even more pathetic. Even Baz has more going on than I do and he’s not even very popular.

“Okay, uhm, so are you free today then?” I can’t believe I just asked that. I hope it didn’t sound eager. Because I’m not eager, I don’t actually want to work with him. I don’t. Really.

“Okay, see you after school then?”

“Yeah.”

What’s happening?


	3. BAZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz, as per usual, is a hot mess and I love it. Simon is clueless, what's new?

**Baz**

I can’t believe I get to work with Simon on a project.

It’s strange that we’ve never really been paired up before. Although, most of the time we get to pick partners and Simon always picks Bunce, and Bunce always picks Simon. It almost feels like an unspoken law between them. I never really took Simon for the studious type, but he must be somewhat intelligent for Bunce to actually want to work with him beside them being close friends.

I wouldn’t have minded doing the project on my own, I would do anything for Simon. But if Bunce thinks he’s competent then I should have faith in him, too. I usually do all pair or group projects on my own, I don’t want to risk getting a bad grade because of being grouped with someone that doesn’t care. But for Simon, I’m willing to risk absolutely everything.

It used to scare me, how much I care for Simon. When I first realized how I felt for him I ignored it. I could never ignore the fact that I’m gay, but I absolutely didn’t want anyone to know. Plus, at first, it wasn’t actually directed at someone in specific. But then Simon came along, and I didn’t know how to handle actually having feelings for someone.

My solution wasn’t exactly well thought out since it made him hate me, but the second I punched him there was no going back. I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I was absolutely infatuated with Simon Salisbury.

Now I have come to accept it, sort of. It still kind of scares me since I actually don’t know him. It feels like I know him, I know stuff about him at least. But this project, this is my chance to actually get to know him for real and I’m feeling anxious and excited at the same time. 

The school day went excruciatingly slow after we decided to meet. I kept looking at the clock, fiddling with my pen, and trying to take slow breaths to soothe my racing pulse. I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom several more times than usual just to splash water in my face to try and cool down. I can’t wait to be alone with Simon, but at the same time, I’m so incredibly nervous to be just that. Alone. With Simon.

I always try to come off as stoic and unbothered, but inside I’m nothing but a mess. I think my facade works because I don’t speak up. If I were to always speak up and try to come off cool with words I would just end up stuttering and flushing and my facade would be no more.

That’s why I’m so nervous about meeting Simon this afternoon. I’m so scared of saying something, maybe even outing myself, that I don’t know if I’ll be able to focus on the project. What if I can’t be a good partner for Simon to work with? What if I mess everything up and he ends up hating me even more?

When the final class is done I almost feel as if I’m about to have a fever. I’m hot all over and my hands are beginning to get sweaty. Now I’m not just a mess on the inside, I’m a mess on the outside too. I’m doomed.

I feel like burying myself in my locker when I hear someone clear their throat behind me. I almost decided to not turn around but I have a feeling that that would be worse. I finally turn around whilst trying to sneakily dry my hands on my pants and come face to face with Simon. Or, you know, face to the top of his head. I am quite a bit taller than him.

I look down at him and feel my heart start racing. He’s looking at me with those blue eyes and not even a hint of disgust is present in them. I mean, he doesn’t look exactly thrilled, but for the first time, I don’t feel like he’s thinking of ways to kill me when I look at him.

“So, where should we do this?”

Him being so unbothered and straight forward makes me nervous. Doesn’t he have a weird feeling about hanging out with me? Or is it because he wants it to be over with as fast as possible? Either way, my anxiety is only getting worse.

“Well, I, uhm…” I can’t believe this is happening, I can’t show him how much his presence affects me.

“How about one of our houses? So we can access a computer,” I fumble out as if that would be the only reason for us to not be out in public. It’s bad just embarrassing myself in front of Simon, it would be even worse embarrassing myself in front of even more people.

He looks surprised at my proposal and I immediately regret it. He’s going to back out and say I should do it alone, or worse, what if he punches me for suggesting such a dumb thing?

“Okay. Can we go to yours?”

Wait… What did he just say?

“Mine’s a little small and the internet isn’t very good.”

I can’t believe this is happening. I think I could cry.

“Yes, okay, we’ll go to my house. Just, give me a second to pack my things.” He nods and makes his way over to his own locker and I turn and stare into my locker. It feels as if my face is on fire and my heart is racing so fastI might faint. Is this normal just because you like someone? It can’t be normal to feel like this. Right?

The ride in my car back to my place is silent. Simon’s eyes went wide when he saw my car but I didn’t address it since I feel kind of embarrassed speaking of my family’s wealth. I tried to refuse the car when my father bought it for me, but he wasn’t having it. Now I use it more so to please him, but also to get out of walking to school.

He remains quiet as I park the car, but I can see the same wide eyes as we approach our house. Well, some would probably describe it as less of a house and more of a smaller manor. 

“Welcome in,” I say as I open the door and try to keep my voice steady. He nods stiffly before walking in and getting out of his shoes. I make sure to put my shoes and my coat away and find Simon standing dumbly with his jacket in his hand and the shoes still lying by his feet.

“Oh, sorry, let me get that for you,” I say silently as I take his jacket and try not to squeal at the fact that my hand brushed up against his arm for a millisecond. My disturbed self is screaming at me to huff it like a creep so I quickly, with shaking hands, hang it up on one of the hooks next to the door. 

“Daphne and my siblings will probably be home shortly so as to not be disturbed we might have to work in my room. Would that be okay?”

I can’t believe I managed to get all of that out without stuttering, but I think I forgot to breathe because I feel sort of faint.

He seems to be sort of taken aback, again, and I hope I wasn’t too forward. What if he thinks it’s weird for me to invite him to my room? Is it because we’re not actually friends? Or is it because we’re both blokes? Or maybe both? Probably both. Oh, fuck, did I already screw everything up?

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s good if we don’t get interrupted.”

Did he... 

Did he just agree with me?


	4. SIMON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon is confused some more.

**Simon**

I’m having trouble actually believing I’m currently standing in Pitch fucking Manor. Well, I don’t think it’s called that, it probably doesn’t even have a name and I’m just coming up with nonsense. Even if the house is nameless, it doesn’t even matter. What I should be worried about is me and Baz being alone in this big (and actually kind of spooky) house.

We’ve never been alone together, and I had no plans on ever being alone with him. Yet, here we are. He hasn’t said anything to make me feel worried, not really, it’s just that I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.

I don’t really have a problem with small talk, I mean sure I get nervous sometimes but with Baz it’s different. We don’t talk, we fight. We don’t hang out with each other, we hit each other. It’s all very juvenile, but hey I’m not trying to deny it at least.

It got harder for me to not go off for every time Baz came strolling up to me with a new insult. I can’t explain how it’s so easy for him to get under my skin. Just earlier today he just had to look at me and I was up on my feet ready to go, and I feel so embarrassed. I always feel embarrassed after we fight, I don’t want to be known as the guy with a short temper and bruised fists. It’s not me, I don’t like to fight, but I can’t control it.

It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. Even before I had to go live with Ebb I got into trouble almost every day. Sometimes it was talking back, sometimes it was pushing a classmate, one time I broke a pencil because I didn’t understand the questions on a test. I literally snapped a pencil in half because I felt dumb.

I thought I was going to grow out of it, and to some extent I did. I don’t snap for nothing nowadays, but with Baz, it's never nothing. Well, to others it might seem like nothing, like a single look, but to me, it feels like he’s stabbing me. His cool, grey eyes, those sharp cheekbones, his regal posture. Everything hurts.

And right now I’m standing in his home. The home of the person that hates me the most and everything hurts just a little bit more. But I can’t let him know, I can’t let down my guard or show any weakness.

I follow Baz as he makes his way to his room. The house is gigantic and there’s old stuff everywhere we go. I didn’t know a house could be this big, let alone that one of my classmates just casually makes his way through long halls with thick carpets and armors hanging on the sides as if it’s _normal._

After what feels like an actual hour-long hike Baz finally opens a door that seems to lead into his bedroom. He seems to relax as soon as he’s in his own territory, but I wonder why he didn’t look more comfortable as soon as we got into the house. Not that I care, why would I?

His room is not what I expected it to be (not that I actually ever thought about how it would look). It’s much less cluttered than the rest of the house, and it also isn’t filled with antiquities and it doesn’t smell like dust. Instead, it’s rather bare, some would probably call it minimalistic. There’s not much personality, besides all of the books covering the walls inside of the dark wooden bookshelves. I guess he likes to read. Somehow I’m not that surprised.

It’s large, his room, much like the rest of the house. Too large for my taste. A giant bed sits in the middle as a statement piece and I immediately turn my attention to anywhere else. Why did I agree to go to his room?

“Should we get started?” I say and try to look for where to sit. Baz nods stiffly and makes his way over to the desk that’s large enough for a fucking conference room and I have never felt so out of place before. He pulls up another chair for me to sit in front of him and I stop myself from saying thank you. It might be rude, but I’m being cautious.

I try to ignore the awkward silence as I take out my notebook and pencil and set it down on the desk. Baz busies himself with opening a laptop that looks more expensive than Ebb’s house and I try not to stare. I wonder what it would be like to be able to get everything you’ve ever wanted? I feel ashamed for the jealousy suddenly flaring up within me, but I try to push it aside.

“I was thinking that we can try to divide the work evenly with one of us focusing on the clothing and one of us focusing on the furniture. Does that sound okay to you?”

Baz is being polite, asking me if it’s okay. It feels forced. Maybe it is, or maybe I feel that way because I'm uncomfortable. I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know anything. And now it’s gone one second too long without me answering his questions. I feel my face start to heat up (why am I _blushing_?).

“Uhm, yes, I can take care of, uhm, the furniture part.” I don’t want to take care of neither furniture nor clothing, but it feels like furniture is at least a little bit less bad than clothing. Baz, however, seems to actually feel relieved or something and I can even see some sort of smile, just like before. Is something wrong with him?

“Yes, good, I was actually going to ask if I could take care of clothing so that’s good then.”

The silence that hangs over us every now and then only gets more awkward, this time is even worse than the last. How will I ever survive this?

Baz starts gathering information almost instantly, and I get stuck with planning out the structure of our presentation. I don’t mind, actually, because it means I have something to focus on so that I can actually stop feeling so embarrassed and affected by the silence.

I actually get occupied enough to not count the minutes as they pass.

“Do you want to switch?”

Baz’s voice brings me back into the real world and I once again realize where I am and what’s actually happening. My head snaps up and it almost feels like I might as well have gotten whiplash from such a rash movement. 

“Switch?” I don’t know what he means. I feel dumb again.

“Do you want to use my laptop to research? I have some material to work with, for now, so it’s yours if you want.”

“Yes, sure, I think that would be good.” I don’t tell him that we only have one stationary computer at home, and it barely works and that I can’t wait to actually work on a functioning computer that isn’t in a library. 

Despite my eagerness to actually be able to work with proper working electronics, I find myself distracted. Baz is sitting in front of me, just as cool and collected as always, and I find myself being envious. I want to be like that, unbothered, confident. I wonder what might have been if he’d never thrown that first punch?

I take in his hair, his straight nose, his sharp jaw. I wait for some kind of gag reflex or hate to start boiling inside of me, but nothing happens. Well, at least nothing of that sort. Instead, I can’t help but find him… fascinating? He looks so proper, so posh, and yet he has continuously for three years been nothing but prim and proper when dealing with me. I don’t understand him, and something in me wants to.

I panic. What the fuck does that mean? I want to understand him? Bullshit. No.

I shake that weird thought and feeling out and stare at the blaring white screen in front of me. I finally got myself to start researching and I wish it was a more interesting topic.


	5. BAZ

**Baz**

As Simon stares at the screen in front of him I let myself look at him without the risk of getting caught. He looks focused enough that I think the coast is clear.

My eyes roam over his golden, unruly curls and his straight eyebrows. I follow the constellation of moles down where they disappear under his shirt. I wonder if they’re spread out all over his body? I can see some on his arms, so my guess is that they are. I want to find out, and maybe map them out with my lips. Yes, definitely.

His jawline is sharp and his lips are full and I can’t get enough of staring at him. He still warms me just like the sun, but when he’s here I feel he’s keeping his warmth inside, away from me. It hurts. I want it, I want all of him. I want him so badly it’s frightening.

I know he’s probably uncomfortable being here, not only in my house but in my room. We’ve never been this close without fighting, and we’ve definitely never been near each other for this long. Everything is new, but at least I’m in my own home. I can never truly relax unless I’m in my room, but right now I still feel stiff. 

To be honest I don’t really feel comfortable in the rest of my house. It’s filled with my relatives' pasts and it feels foreign. Even though all of it is somehow connected to me, I don’t feel much of a bond. I don’t even feel a real bond with my own family.

I’m not close to my father, not even in the slightest. Daphne is nice, but even though they’re married and all I don’t actually know her. Mordelia is only my half-sister, and she’s still so young that we can’t really connect. The only people in my family I’ve ever felt a true bond with was my mother and her sister, Aunt Fiona. Fiona doesn’t live near me, and my mother is dead, so I can’t help but feel alone.

I feel less alone when I look at Simon. He doesn’t know how much his presence affects me, how I feel like I’m turning into a useless jellyfish just from seeing him type on my computer. I can’t believe that his alluring scent of cinnamon and butter is going to be present in my room for at least a while after he leaves. I can’t believe that any of this is happening right now. 

We don’t talk much for the rest of the afternoon. We mostly go over the material when needed but otherwise, we try to collect as many facts and such before getting to actually visit the museum. My disturbed and damaged self is telling me that it will be like we’re on a _date_ , but the sensible part of my brain is telling me to stop fantasizing and also to stop being such a creep. I don’t know how to. 

When it’s almost five o’clock Simon seems to react. He starts to put his things away and I freeze. What happened? Does 5 pm mean anything? Is he late somewhere? I wish it would be normal for me to ask, but since it’s not I don’t know what to say or do.

“I have to go,” he says as he gets out of his chair and slings his backpack over his shoulder. I stand up hastily and the chair almost tips over. I feel my face flush, but I don’t know if Simon notices. I hope not.

I don’t say anything as I walk him to the door. We pass the living room where Daphne is seated with a book and I see her watching us. I turn my face away and try to look at Simon. I can’t help that the part of Simon that I’m looking at happens to be his ass. It’s just so nice to look at, it would be a waste not to.

“Thanks for letting me use your computer,” he says, seemingly absentmindedly, as he puts on his worn sneakers. The butterflies in my stomach take flight. 

“No problem,” is all I dare say so I don’t accidentally stutter or you know, just blurt out my feelings for him. That wouldn’t be very good.

“See you tomorrow then?” I don’t know why he says it like it’s a question, of course, we will. But I can’t help but smile as I nod and I hope the flush in my cheeks isn't as visible as it feels.

“See you tomorrow,” I say before he leaves without another word and the door closes behind him. I let out a deep sigh and card my fingers through my hair. It feels like I’ve been holding in that lovesick sigh for hours.

“Who was that?”

I jump at the sound of Daphne’s voice and turn around instantly. She has a small smile on her lips and the book carefully held in both hands.

“Simon, from school.” I don’t know what she wants. 

“He’s cute.” I look away, I can’t look her in the eyes and tell her I don’t agree. Because I do. He's not just cute, he’s beautiful. 

“He’s eighteen, Daphne,” I say with a slightly mocking tone and I feel bad as soon as the words leave my mouth. Her smile falters. “I’m sorry, I was just joking.” I want to tell her it was a defense mechanism, but I can’t.

“Dinner will be served at six,” she says with a sweet voice, as sweet as always, and I feel even worse. I don’t apologize again, instead, I disappear into my room as quickly as I can. 

I lay down in my bed and stare at the ceiling like a heartbroken teenager in a sappy rom-com and I feel like absolute shit. I should feel happier, I just spent several hours with Simon fucking Salisbury alone in my room and I feel even more hopeless than before. It was awkward and the silence was unbearable. I wished a friendship of some sort would have naturally blossomed from us being alone, sheltered away from the rest of the world, but of course, it didn’t. It just hurt to realize that any chance of any type of relationship with Simon was long lost. 

I wonder what could have been if I hadn't lost control of my feelings three years ago. If I would have ignored the heartbreak and tried to talk to him sometime, maybe ask him regarding something in class or literally just anything instead of punching him square in the face. What could have happened? Could we at least have been friends by now?

The feeling of his fist against my face was at the time all I felt I was worthy of, the only way he would ever touch me. I don’t know how that type of touch could ever ignite my feelings, but here I am, as infatuated as ever. I touch my face, follow the shape of my cheekbones and the bridge of my nose. It’s been broken by him, all of it, and still, I look at him as if he were a star or even the moon. I’ve broken him too, and I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. 

I don’t join my family for dinner, I don’t even open the door when a plate is carried up to my room for me. I don’t feel like eating. All I feel like doing is lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling, so that’s what I do. 

I wish I had never punched him that day. I regret everything.


	6. SIMON

**Simon**

When I hear the door close behind me I let out a deep breath. I told Ebb I would be home by five, and now I’m running late. The last half hour went by so quickly and I think I know why - I was starting to get comfortable. I don’t know how or when I started to breathe more evenly, but all of a sudden the air didn’t seem as thick and Baz’s presence didn’t affect me as much. 

I try to make my way over to the bus station as quickly as possible as I dial up Ebb’s number. She answers almost immediately. 

“Hiya, Simon, aren’t you just about to get home?” Her voice soothes me, she’s been like a mother to me for so long that I instantly feel calmer just from listening to her.

“Yeah, uhm, I lost track of time when studying and I’m at the bus stop but I haven’t checked when the next bus is coming.” I fumble to get the words out, I hate making her wait for me like this. We only have each other, I don’t want to leave her alone.

“Don’t worry, Simon. I’m sure the next bus will come along in a few, just let me know when you’re getting close, okay?” I can’t help but smile, she cares so much.

“Yeah.” 

I feel relieved after we hang up, the next bus should be coming shortly and I sit down on the cold metal bench. I play on my phone for a while, text Penny a few times and she tells me about her project partner. She doesn’t seem to be happy. I don’t start to realize the time passing until the cold has taken over my entire body and my ass is starting to hurt from sitting still on the bench for so long. Where the fuck is the bus?

I check on the schedule, and it should have been here. It should even have passed here twice by now - should I maybe check the app? I usually don’t have to, I don’t take the bus to and from school since it’s within walking distance, so I normally don’t feel the need to even have the app.

I wait for it to download and I try not to panic. It takes a bit longer than usual, I think it’s because my 4G is slower out here. When I open it I search for the route and when the red exclamation point pops up I want to barf. Okay, so the first bus to be arriving isn’t coming even for _another hour_ and I feel faint. It’s already past six, I’ve been sitting here for a whole fucking hour. What should I do?

Then I realized something - Baz’s car.

Before I fully realize what I’m doing I’m marching back over to the haunted mansion posing as a family home. I feel my hands start to get clammy and my heart’s in my throat and still, I keep going forward. I desperately need a ride.

My hand is shaking as I knock on the large door and I try to straighten up. I don’t know who will be answering the door.

“Oh, hello, are you alright?” 

The woman that opens the door is unknown to me, but that’s not surprising, I don’t know anything about Baz or his family. Is it his mom? She doesn’t look like she could be his mom, none of their features match, but I could be wrong.

“Uhm, actually, I need to ask Baz for a favor.” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them, I don’t even greet her or introduce myself.

“Come in, Simon. I’ll go get him for you.”

Wait, what? How does she know my name? Did Baz tell her? Did he say anything about me? Does she just know my name? Does she know our history? 

I’m starting to spiral as I step inside the hall again and watch the woman take off in the direction of Baz’s room. I feel sweat gathering on my lower spine and I swallow hard. I don’t want to be here, but I feel like I have no choice.

In a surprisingly short amount of time, I see Baz making his way towards me. The woman is not with him, and I can’t help but wonder why. He’s tall and dark and he’s fast with long legs. I almost feel threatened with the combination of him and the dark hallway, but I don’t think he would hurt me here, in his home.

“Daphne says you want to ask me for a favor?” he says slowly, he seems almost cautious.

”Can you give me a ride home?” I almost stutter, but I don’t, luckily. I don’t want him to know how nervous I am. I don’t want to do this, but I feel like I have to.

“A ride?” His voice is low, questioning.

“The bus doesn’t come for another hour and I promised to be home an hour ago and I don’t want to leave my... Uh, I don’t want to be later than I already am. Can you? I mean, give me a ride?”

I don’t want him to know about Ebb. If he knows about Ebb he might wonder why I don’t live with my family. My family that, unbeknownst to Baz, currently consists of a dead person and an imprisoned one. I don’t want him to wonder, and I definitely don’t want him to know.

“Yes, uh, I can give you a ride. Let me just get the keys and my coat,” he says with that smooth, posh voice and I feel inferior to him. He has so much, and I have so little. I don’t actually feel like that’s something he knows about that much, but I still feel that he’s so aware of all that he has and he definitely looks the part of being a rich bachelor with no emotions and a lot of cash. Does he know that he looks like that? That his features give him this untouchable royal feel?

Even now he’s dressed as if he jumped out of a fashion magazine. Not that I know much about fashion, but he looks so put together. He’s wearing a black turtleneck, black jeans, and now a black long coat. It all looks so formal, yet I feel like anything less formal would look abnormal on him. Formal clothes suit him. I don’t want to think about that anymore, because I feel myself starting to get flushed and I don’t want to figure out why.

We walk over to the car in silence and I jump into the passenger side just as before. I feel out of place in such a nice car, I felt it earlier too, but there’s no point in pointing it out or complaining. Baz doesn’t have to help me out, but he did without question, so why should I say that I’m uncomfortable? I don’t think it would help with anything seeing as our ‘relationship’ (aka us not killing each other for one afternoon) is still on thin ice - well, thin ice as in it’s barely even existing, to begin with.

“Here,” Baz says and clicks something on the screen in the middle of the dashboard. “Put in your address.” His voice is so low, I almost feel intimidated. Is it usually this low? He sounds different. It makes me not question anything, I just lean forward and write in the address and then lean back again. The silence is deafening. 

Should I say something?

“Thank you for driving me, you didn’t have to,” I find myself saying before I even think it over. I don’t know if I’ve ever said thank you to Baz before today, and now I’ve said it at least twice in one afternoon. I don’t know why, but he has been nice. It feels so out of character, how nice he’s been.

“Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t exactly busy.” I wonder what he means by that.

“Still, thanks.” I try not to let my voice give my nervousness away, and I feel like it probably doesn’t. At least not for the time being. I feel kind of weird thinking of how he didn’t hesitate before accepting earlier. Driving me home and back will take him at least forty minutes, depending on traffic, and yet he didn’t even think it over. At least it didn’t seem like he did. 

“As I said, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind,” he says and when I look over at him he’s smiling. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more than a smirk on his lips, but he’s actually smiling right now, and I don’t know why. If it were a real thing, I feel like my heart is skipping beats. Can it do that? I don’t think it can.

I find myself smiling, too. I don’t know why. 

We arrived outside my house. Well, it’s actually Ebb’s house but for all Baz knows me and my loving family lives here, right? I hesitate before unbuckling my belt but as I do I hear Baz clear his throat. With the belt still in my hand I look over at him and I see him pull up his hair into a bun. I swallow. I remember liking his hair more when it’s down. Wait, what? I don’t like his hair, never have and never will. Whatever.

“Thanks again for this afternoon, see you tomorrow?” he says (asks?) and I take a deep breath. “Yeah, and, uh, thanks for the ride, Baz.” I don’t know if I’ve ever said his first name, I always call him Pitch. He looks at me with those cold, gray eyes and I swallow hard again.

“No worries, Simon.”


	7. BAZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My heart actually hurts after writing this.

**Baz**

I watch him as he goes to the door and unlocks it. I don’t actually stop looking at him until the door closes behind him. I already feel creepy enough from just that, so I drive to the next street over until I stop again. I lean my forehead against the wheel and let out a shaky breath. I was holding that in for what felt like the entire ride to his house.

When Daphne knocked at my door I was convinced she was trying to get me to talk to her, but as soon as she said Simon was at the door I was out of bed in seconds. I didn’t even take the time to thank her for letting me know, I just walked right past her and hurried over to Simon as if it was a life or death situation.

He looked like he was shivering, his nose a little cold. The weather is being a real bitch right now pretending that it’s already autumn even though we’re only in September. It’s not supposed to be this cold yet, but I know that it’s been colder than normal these past days. He looked adorable with the red nose matching his pink lips. He looked good enough to eat.

As I sit in the car and think about what just happened I feel my heart race. He called me Baz., He even _smiled_. He smiled at me. I didn’t even realize that I had been smiling at him. His smile lights up his whole face, I’ve seen it many times and admired it just as many. It just has never been directed at me.

Every time he smiles I feel even more infatuated and it’s scary how nothing more than a smile has me turning into a puddle of goo. He’s just so beautiful, and I want nothing more than to tell him and hold him close.

He was so close to me just now. His smile, his eyes, his hair. All of him was right beside me and I felt myself turn into a maniac. I don’t know how I’m supposed to be so close to him and not out myself. How can I possibly do this for the entire duration of our project and not spontaneously combust?

I begin to drive home, but I don’t feel like actually going home. I decided to drive around for a while and I wish I had asked for his number. Would he have known that I wouldn’t only be asking for the sake of the project? I feel as if I would stare at the digits for hours if I ever were to get his number, not believing it. I wish I could be the one that he would text when he’s bored, or who he calls when he’s upset. 

As I keep driving I let myself fantasize. I imagine staring at his number as he suddenly calls me. He’s upset, but I can’t come up with a reason why. But I listen, I listen for hours. I calm him down, and he sniffles out a meek ‘thank you’ into the phone. I tell him I love him, and he says it back. My heart swells. 

These fantasies are getting dangerous. Now that I’ve heard his voice in its normal tone for so long I can imagine it much clearer. I can’t go on like this, I’m getting more disturbed by the second. Should I see a therapist? The fantasies can’t be something sane people do.

When I get home I don’t greet Daphne or my father, but I annoyingly glare at Mordelia as she mentions how stupid I look. I really thought she had grown out of the name-calling stage by now, she’s so smart for her age, and yet she still can be so childish.

I lock myself in my room and once again lay down in my bed. I bury my face in my pillows and try to take deep breaths. Suddenly I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

I dig my phone out from the front pocket of my jeans and blink at the screen. It’s an email from Penelope Bunce. What the fuck? 

_Hi Basilton. Simon asked me to give you his number for the project. Since I have your email, I thought I could write it to you here. Text him to let him know you have it. - P. Bunce_

His number is written as the subject I realize, and my hands start to shake. It feels weird how I was just fantasizing about having his number, and now I do. I shakily write her a thank you-email before pulling up my contacts. I write _**Simon**_ , wishing that I could add a heart after, and type the digits in. I have to rewrite them several times as my shaking hands keep making me type in the wrong ones.

I decided to do as Bunce said and write to him personally to let him know I have him in my contacts now, but I don’t really know how to phrase it. It takes me a good fifteen minutes of tweaking it before I hit send and my heart is racing like it’s never done before. I can’t believe this is happening.  
Baz, 19.27

_Hello, Simon. I got Bunce’s email. Just letting you know that I have you in my contacts._

He answers me surprisingly fast and I wonder if it’s possible to die from a too-fast beating heart.

Simon, 19.27

_hiya baz thats good now we can talk abt the project ez_

The way he texts both bothers me and makes my heart thump loudly in my chest. It somehow confirms that it’s actually Simon I’m talking to. I’m having trouble believing everything right now, even everything that has happened today alone.

I wonder what spurred this on, so I ask him. Well, not directly, but sort of.

Baz, 19.29

_Did you have a particular concern regarding the project?_

Simon, 19.31

_no not rly_

Simon, 19.31

_think we did good 2day_

I’m actually sweating from having a conversation with him. Not even a real conversation, we’re texting and it’s making me blush and shiver. I’m so fucking weak for this man.

Baz, 19.33

_I think so, too. Good work._

Simon, 19.35

_:)_

I can’t help but hug my phone close to my chest. A fucking smiley face is all it takes for me to melt. I’m so far gone and I don’t even care anymore. I love Simon more than anything and I wish I could tell him. I wish he would feel the same. What a world that would be to live in.

Later that night I changed into my pajamas before going to my bathroom to brush my teeth. I look at myself in the mirror and wonder if what I see is something Simon could ever find to be beautiful. I have no idea if he’s even attracted to guys, but he probably isn’t. There’s no evidence of him liking men, only women. Although since he’s only dated Agatha these past three years it’s not like there has been any time for any evidence coming up. If he were to be attracted to guys, would it be possible for him to be attracted to me? 

I’ve always found myself to be sort of good looking. My reddish-gold skin is smooth, my legs are long and my cheekbones are high. I’ve always tried to take care of myself and my overall appearance. But liking your own appearance doesn’t mean that you’re attractive in the eyes of others. 

I brush my teeth just as carefully as always before starting my skincare routine. I don’t know why I’ve always been so obsessed with trying to look as good as possible, but I do know that it makes me feel more confident. I’m insecure when I meet other people, being social doesn’t come naturally to me. So if I feel confident with how I look I feel like I can actually face being social for short periods of time. Today it was hard, especially since I’m in love with Simon, but I know that if I hadn’t been in clothes that make me confident or if my hair hadn’t been carefully done that morning that I would have been even more awkward.

As I lay down in bed I do something incredibly impulsive, and in hindsight very dumb. I text Simon again.

Baz, 22.07

_Good night._

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t answer. I can’t help but cry myself to sleep.


	8. SIMON

**Simon**

I’m in my bed struggling with my math homework as my phone buzzes. I assume it’s Penny and I decide to wait for a little to answer as I really need to figure out this fucking equation. It takes me almost five minutes to remember that Penny already told me like half an hour ago that she was going to bed. Is it not her?

My heart starts hammering as I see the good night-text from Baz. Why in the fuck is Baz telling me goodnight? What the fuck? I’m so confused.

Should I answer? Is he trying to be nice? Is he trying to fool me? What if his whole nice thing was just an act and he surprises me tomorrow with a good morning-punch?

I stare at the screen and all I can focus on is the pounding of my pulse filling my ears. Maybe he’s not actually trying to trick me? What if he just wanted to tell me good night?

Why would he say goodnight to me?

I decide to not answer, I don’t even know how I would answer if I would have decided to do so. I just can’t bring myself to do it. We just started speaking in a civil manner with each other earlier today. It just doesn’t make any sense.

It takes me forever to fall asleep, and when I wake up the next morning I feel as if I haven’t slept at all. Is this what it would feel like to get run over by a truck?

When I look at my phone I realize I still have our conversation up. I debate whether or not to tell him I saw it, or if I should tell him I was asleep. Do I even have to come up with an excuse as to why I didn’t answer? One part of me is telling me that I don’t have to - Baz and I hate each other, so why should I answer a dumb text. Another is telling me that I’m being mean and rude, and I hate the thought of actually wrecking whatever kind of truce-thing we’re in at the moment.

Simon, 7.03

_sry was asleep_

I put my phone away as I sit up and rub my eyes. I have to get ready for school, but I really wish I could just stay home. I run my hand through my curls and sigh before stretching. My neck and back pop loudly and I wince. I really haven’t slept well at all. 

When my phone buzzes next to me I jump before fumbling to open it.

Baz, 7.05

_Don’t worry about it._

It seems like a cold response when you compare it to the text from last night. Sure, all his texts sound monotone and don’t seem to express many feelings at all but somehow this one feels like a stark contrast from him telling me goodnight. Did I hurt his feelings? Does the bastard even have feelings? Well, used to be-bastard is maybe a better way to describe him.

I have to text him back. It’s the right thing to do, right? 

Simon, 7.07

_good mrng tho_

It’s a dumb text, but at least it’s something.

To get my mind off of the whole thing I put down my phone and start to get ready. I brush my teeth and shower quickly before pulling on the first clothing pieces I find. I don’t really care how I look or dress, I just go with whatever. 

Sometimes I have wondered if I should care more. I used to put in some type of effort when I was with Agatha, at least when we hung out or went on dates. Well, if you can even call them dates. We went to the movies sometimes, and I think we went to dinner once or twice. 

My relationship with Agatha was strange. In the beginning, I was kind of excited, I had never had a girlfriend before and I felt cool since she seemed to be so popular. She’s really pretty, but in the end, I realized that I didn’t actually feel anything romantic towards her. In the three years of dating, we only had sex once, and not long after I broke up with her. I felt like a complete ass, but after that, I knew for sure that she was never the right one for me. 

The sex was really bad, to be honest. I always thought sex would feel really good and I wanted to at least try it, but it wasn’t like I expected it to be. At first, I was too nervous to actually get it up, and Agatha said she didn’t mind but I think she was kind of hurt. When I finally managed to block out the nerves and we got on with the whole thing it felt extremely awkward and it felt wrong somehow. 

Neither of us finished and I went home soon thereafter. I apologized to her, and she apologized back. Two weeks later we broke up.

I liked hanging out with her, I still do. She’s nice and sweet and she was a really good girlfriend, but I never felt like I was good enough for her. Maybe because I wasn’t a really good boyfriend, but also because I had a hard time expressing my feelings. That might have been because I actually never loved her, not like that. I thought I did, but at the end of our relationship, I realized that my feelings for her were strictly platonic.

When I’m fully dressed I grab my phone and my bag and on my way to the kitchen I look to see if Baz has answered. He has, and I find myself smiling. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Baz, 7.09

_Good morning, Simon._

I have to answer to not feel guilty again.

Simon, 7.24

_:)_

My heart stutters when he texts me back again.

Baz, 7.24

_:)_

Is it just me or is this whole texting thing really awkward?

When I get to the kitchen Ebb is sitting at the small dining table with a cup of tea in one hand and the newspaper in front of her. She looks so peaceful and I can’t help but feel safe just from looking at her. When she hears me walking she looks up and smiles at me.

“Morning, Simon, did you sleep well?” she says before lifting her teacup to her mouth. I want to tell her I did, but I know she always knows when I lie. 

I shake my head. “No, not really. I had a hard time falling asleep.”

She looks worried and I try to brush it off by giving her a bright smile.

“But it’s okay, I think I just need some food and it’ll cheer me up, alright?”

I grabbed the last scone from last night. It was supposed to be my turn to cook but Ebb was kind enough to make dinner and some scones, they’re my favorite flavor even, sour cherry. I don’t know why she’s so kind to me - I was so late last night, and still, she greeted me with a warm meal and a hug. 

“Alright, if you say so. But you might have to eat that scone on your walk to school or you’ll be late.” I nod quickly and put the scone in my mouth as I go to the door to pull on my sneakers and my jacket. I swing the bag over my shoulder again and wave to her, some crumbs falling out of my mouth as I try to say goodbye before leaving quickly.

Throughout the day I pass Baz in the halls, and we even have some classes together. We don’t say hi, or talk at all, but when I see him he always nods as if to say hello without having to actually say it. It all feels very awkward. We told each other good morning today, we were together for hours yesterday, and now we nod in the halls to each other in silent communication. 

The next day is the same. We text each other good morning, this time he did it first. We don’t talk in school at all, but then I have the urge to tell him good night. He says it back.

I can’t help but feel happy at the fact that we’re no longer after each other. It feels good to not be hated, mocked, or hit. I could get used to it.

When Friday rolls around I write him good morning by reflex, and it’s scary how quickly that reflex came to be. He says it back in a matter of minutes. Are we actually on our way to become friends?

At lunch Penny corners me.

“How come you and Baz haven’t fought since the first day of school? Is it because of your project? Are you actually making nice, Si? What’s going on, what aren’t you telling me?”

I’m overwhelmed by her intense questioning and I stare at her with my mouth hanging open.

“Are you listening, Simon?” 

“Yeah, I’m listening. You just caught me off guard,” I say. She literally just sat down in front of me and already she’s asked me what feels like a thousand questions. She doesn’t say anything more, she just stares at me. I can’t stop my blood rushing to my cheeks.

“Well, yeah, ever since we worked on the project this Tuesday we’ve been sort of just tolerating each other I guess. I think Baz just really wants a good grade, who knows we might go back to fighting as soon as this project is over.”

I haven’t told her about our good morning and goodnight-texts. Should I have told her?  
“It just seems weird that all of a sudden he tolerates you and doesn’t even seem bothered by you at all. Like how can a person turn like that just because of wanting a good grade?” I don’t know what to answer, because I don’t know either. 

“Have you texted? Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you asking me to give him your number, Si.” I feel the flush deepening and she looks at me as if she’s trying to figure me out.

“Yeah,” I start as I’m trying to decide whether or not to tell her. I don’t think I could ever lie to her. I have to tell her. “We, um, we actually tell each other goodnight and good morning, besides texting about the project. Nothing else, but um-” I stop talking when I see her eyes go wide.

“What the fuck, Simon?” she says and I bite my lip. I don’t know what to say.

“Are you really texting each other good morning and goodnight?” 

“He started it!” I exclaim childishly and Penny snorts. “Like that matters, you’re still doing it.”

I know she’s right.

“Whatever, it doesn’t mean anything. He might just be taking the piss and making me think he’s going to be nice from now on but I’ll have to handle that when we get there. Right now he’s being nice, so I’m going to be nice back. You of all people know that I’ve been hating him just because he’s hating me - and now he’s nice. It might end as soon as the project is done, but I really can’t be bothered to keep this grudge with him up. I’m tired of it.”

She looks at me and seems to search my face to see if I’m lying. Her exhale tells me she knows I’m telling her the truth.

“I know, Si. I’m sorry. But I guess that’s good, then? Now you don’t have to get so worked up and worry all the time, right?” I nod and I feel the anxiety of it all lessen. I actually have been feeling more focused in school now, maybe because I don’t have to constantly look over my shoulder to see if Baz is on his way to hate on me.

Yeah, Penny’s right. It’s good. Really good.


	9. BAZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date? Date.
> 
> Also sorry for spamming with chapters, it's currently 2 am where I live and I can't stop writing.

**Baz**

The following two weeks are good, much better than I ever could have hoped for. We keep up the texts in the morning and at night, it almost feels like some sort of unspoken routine between the two of us. We keep working on the project, sometimes at the library but actually mostly at my place. I don’t know how that came to be, but I think Simon isn’t comfortable with me being at his house. I honestly don’t know why, but I don’t feel like I have the right to ask.

When we go to the museum to gather materials directly from the source it almost feels like we’re on dates and I have to keep reminding me that we’re only there for school and it doesn’t mean anything else. It’s hard to do that sometimes when Simon smiles at me - one time I even made him laugh and I thought I was going to faint.

If only I knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling. 

We’re at the museum this Friday afternoon. It’s our last class of the day and I and Simon are sitting on a bench in the clothing part. Currently, I’m looking at a particularly elaborate Rococo-gown and it’s absolutely stunning. I have always loved fashion and this is not the first time I’ve delved into its history. This is the first time I’m doing it for school though, and I can’t stop staring at the beautiful dress before me.

It’s a stunning blush-colored gown with elaborate decorations making it look incredibly expensive. I wish it was allowed to touch the dresses but I think I’m somewhat satisfied with at least being able to look at something so amazing up close.

“It’s pretty,” Simon says as he sits beside me and I turn around quickly to face him. I didn’t know he realized how intensely I stared at the gown and I felt my cheeks turn red. “Don’t you think so?” I swallow hard.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” I say softly before forcing myself to break our eye contact. I can’t look into his eyes without feeling like my heart is going to jump out of my chest. Sure, they’re kind of ordinary, but to me, they kind of resemble some kind of sea-blue gems. They’re beautiful, just like the rest of him. I wish I could tell him.

“Looks uncomfortable,” he mumbles and I can’t help but let a giggle slip. A fucking giggle. I’m so embarrassed. I clear my throat and look down at the notebook in my hands.

“They weren’t designed for comfort, they were designed to look elegant and eye-catching, especially those meant for royals or noble ladies. But yes, they must’ve been incredibly uncomfortable. I can imagine how hard it must be to breathe with a corset on.”

I can feel Simon’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare lift my eyes to look at him back. 

“You seem to know a lot about fashion,” he says and I let myself smile a little. I look up, but not at Simon. I can’t. Instead, I keep my eyes on the dress. “Yeah, I’ve always loved fashion. It’s fascinating how clothes can convey so much of people’s personalities,” I say, almost absentmindedly.

“What do my clothes say about me?”

His question makes my eyes immediately snap to him, but he doesn’t look very embarrassed or like he’s mocking me. He looks at me patiently and I actually try to take in what he’s wearing. 

It’s very simple. Blue jeans, white tee, lightweight dark blue jacket. It looks good on him, but somehow I feel like it’s not very _Simon_. 

“I think it suits you, but somehow I get the feeling like it’s not very you, to be honest. Do you maybe not buy your own clothes?” The tips of his ears turn red and I wonder if I offended him.

“Kind of embarrassing how you just guessed that, but yeah no I don’t.” I try to smile very small so as to not make him more embarrassed. “No, it’s not embarrassing, it’s just that I feel like you probably would pick something else. At least a different jacket, it’s very functional but that’s also why I don’t feel like it’s you because something tells me that you don’t really look into how weather resistant things are.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t really care. But I guess I do feel kind of embarrassed that I don’t know how to dress. Like, I’m eighteen and I still dress like I’m twelve. It feels like that, at least.” He sounds so sweet, and before I actually think it over I throw out an idea.

“I could help you if you want.” 

Why the fuck did I just say that? It’s not like we haven’t “hung out” before, but that was only for school. We’ve never actually met up with each other just to spend time together. 

“You’d do that?” I’m taken aback by his question. I want to say ‘Of course, I’d do anything for you’ but I know that if I would he would run away from me. Or, I don’t know that, but I feel like he would.

“Yeah, sure. We could go look at some stuff after school if you want?”

I don’t know why I keep throwing out these dumb ass ideas but I can’t help myself. I just want to spend time with him, I’m desperate.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

I almost choke on my own spit and I have to hide my face for a second while I cough. 

“You alright?” I love him so much.

“Yeah, sorry, there was just a sudden itch in my throat but it’s gone now.” He smiles.

“Okay, good. So, let’s go when we’re done here?”

I can only nod, I’m afraid I might stutter or say something inappropriate if I actually answer him. The butterflies in my stomach are running wild and I almost feel like my hearing is gone because all I can hear is the blood rushing through my veins and making my heart work too hard for its own good. 

When class is over my hands are sweating and I can’t stop smiling. I must look insane, but Simon doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he just packs up his things, and I do the same. We walk together, side by side, and it feels so good. Too good to be true, honestly.

I truly am living a charmed life.


	10. SIMON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fucking finally!!!
> 
> Also, this one turned out way longer than the others but you know, it is what it is

**Simon**

I don’t know why I agreed to this. I don’t really care what I look like, even though I probably should. It was a nice offer, and it would have been rude to say no. Also, I do think Baz dresses nice, so I know I’m in good hands. Maybe I’ll come out of this looking better than Baz.

Wait, no. Dressing better than Baz. Not looking better. Not that Baz looks good. I mean, not that he’s not, objectively attractive, but um, no. I didn’t mean that. Whatever.

As we walk towards the shopping street we talk about the project. It feels better to talk about something that we’ve already talked about so many times before, instead of pushing the limits of not only doing something new together but also talking about something new.

I find that there are no longer very long silences between us, and when there is it’s not as awkward as it was at first. It honestly seems kind of natural to be talking and walking with him by now, and it’s kind of scary how fast it has gone. We’ve only been ‘hanging out’ for the last two weeks, but two weeks without fighting has made me realize that there is so much more to Baz than insults and fistfights.

When we reach the first store it’s clear that Baz knows exactly what he’s doing. He immediately starts asking me about how I feel regarding almost every piece of clothing in the store to gather information about my likes and dislikes. Sometimes I feel like I can’t tell what I like and what I don’t like. 

“So, can I pick some stuff out for you to try on?” 

This is the question that truly catches me off guard. I don’t know what to say, so I just nod dumbly with my mouth hanging open (Penny always tells me I need to stop being such a mouth-breather, but I can’t help it).

Baz smiles at me and I realize that my heartbeat speeds up at that. I don’t know what’s going on.

I follow him around the store like a lost puppy, absentmindedly listening to the soft music playing through the speakers. I look at the shirts, pants, and jackets he picks up on his way and I find myself actually liking it all. It’s simple, but there’s still some _personality_ in it, as Baz would probably say.

Before long Baz leads me in the direction of the fitting rooms and confidently opens one of the curtains to hang it all up neatly on hooks. He looks professional as if he’s done this so many times, it almost feels as if he works in retail.

“I’ll wait outside, let me know if you need anything,” he says and I really feel as if he's someone who works in the store that’s helping me out. I would never ask an employee for help, so it’s not as awkward as that would have been. 

“Yeah, um, thanks,” I say before closing the curtain and turning around to look at the clothes. I don’t know what to try on first, or if something was picked out specifically to be worn together. I feel so dumb, especially since it seems to come so naturally to Baz. 

I reach forward and feel the fabric of a blue turtleneck. It’s soft and I feel inclined to try it on. I pull my tee over my head and even though I’m hidden by the curtain I feel slightly exposed. I hurry to pull the top over my head and I even make an effort to fold the turtleneck in a more neat way. I don’t know if I’m supposed to match it with any of the pants, so I open the curtain, just a little bit, and Baz immediately looks up from his phone.

“Did you pick out any specific pants for this sweater?” I ask and I feel the blush creeping up my cheeks and my ears. He doesn’t answer me, instead, he gets up from the leather chair and walks over to me. I back up a bit and let him in and he immediately pulls out a pair of black pants. If I’m right I think they’re called slacks. 

“Try these,” he says with a smile that makes me feel warm inside. I don’t have time to figure out why that is. I nod, once again, because apparently, I don’t know how to talk anymore, before I close the curtain again.

“Also, tuck it in!” I hear Baz say from the other side of the curtain, and I can’t help but snicker. I try to get into the pants quickly and I tuck the top into them. I turn to look in the mirror to see if it looks okay. I don’t know how he’s done it, but I actually feel like I look really good. The pants are shorter than I’m used to, but not too short to not fit correctly. The sweater is tight enough to show off my shape, but not too tight for me to become uncomfortable. I actually feel like I look fit.

I open the curtains and once again Baz looks up at me almost instantly.

“What do you think?” he asks as if I’m not the one that should ask him that. “I really like it, honestly. I’ve never worn anything like it, but without being too self-centered I actually feel like I look good.”

“I think so, too.”

My heart stops. He thinks I look good? Now it’s not just my cheeks and ears that turn red, but my entire face. I can almost feel it traveling down my neck to my chest and I don’t know how to stop it. 

“Thanks,” I stutter out and Baz just smiles. How does he do that? Just sit there like he didn’t just tell me I look good? Or is that a normal thing for one guy friend to say to another guy friend? To be honest, I wouldn’t really know, I only ever hang out with Penny.

“Try on something else,” he says as if I didn’t just turn as red as a fucking tomato in the face and stuttered, and waves with his hand as to shoo me back into the changing room. He seems so unbothered by it all, and I can’t help but feel jealous. He always seems so cool.

I quickly turn to close the curtain and when I look at myself I can confirm that my blush is indeed very obvious. I can’t focus on that now, though, so I turn to look at the clothes again.

It takes quite a while for me to try on all of the clothes Baz picked out for me, but no matter what I put on I find myself liking it all. It kind of sucks, because I know I don’t have the money for practically any of this, but I don’t know how to tell Baz that. 

When I’m back in my own clothes again I don’t even have time to tell him anything before he grabs the clothes out of my hands. 

“What are you doing? Is something wrong?” I ask because I genuinely have no clue as to what is going on. To be fair, I feel like I never know what’s going on.

“I’m taking them to the register,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow at me and I take a deep breath. Is it hot in here?

“I could have carried them myself, I am the one buying them,” I say even though I was just about to tell him that at most I can buy one of the tops. 

“No you’re not,” he says, just as straightforward as before, and he starts going towards the register. I’m left standing dumbly by the changing rooms before I realize what he’s doing. He’s paying for the clothes - All of them.

I hurry over to stop him, but the curious look I get from the woman behind the register makes me come to a halt behind Baz. He smiles at the woman and says something, she laughs and flicks her hair over her shoulder. I don’t hear any of it, I’m too busy having some sort of internal panic-thing.

“Why on earth did you just buy all those clothes for me?” 

I corner him as we walk outside of the store and he looks at me with questioning eyes. “It was my idea to do this in the first place,” he says as if that explains why he just purchased clothes with enough money to last me and Ebb’s grocery shopping for a month. Well, okay maybe not that much, but it was a lot of money he just spent on _me_.

He holds out the bags for me to take and I instinctively grab them, but as I realize that he’s avoiding the subject I huff.

“You know I can’t accept this,” I say and I look down at the bags. Why the fuck is he so nice to me?

“Please, Simon, it’s the least I can do.” 

I don’t understand. 

“What?” I sound so fucking dumb it’s insane.

“I’ve been treating you like shit for three years, Simon. Please just take the clothes, just look at it as me apologizing.” 

I’m dumbfounded. We haven’t even mentioned our years of fighting once for the past two weeks, so I didn’t see it coming. It’s true, he has treated me like shit. But it’s not like I haven’t been just as bad.

“I don’t know to apologize for terrorizing you so please, please just take the clothes, Simon.” His voice sounds strained, and I can see his eyes turn misty. Is he about to cry?

A sudden pang rings through my chest and it actually physically hurts. I don’t understand anything, but I almost feel like crying, too.

“But I’ve been just as bad.” My voice isn’t holding up and I wince as it cracks. I don’t know why we’re doing this in the middle of the fucking street filled with other shoppers, but no one seems to even notice that we’re here. 

“No, no you haven’t. I started this, it’s my fault.” I can’t argue with that. I’m fully aware that he was the one that threw the first punch. I just didn’t know that he felt this much regret. 

“I can’t do this, sorry, this was a mistake.” 

Before I have the time to react or even know what to say, Baz is walking away from me. My heart is beating so fast and I feel tears in my eyes and sick to my stomach. What the fuck is going on?

Without thinking I go after him, away from the crowds and the shops. I don’t know where he’s going, his car is still at school, but I don’t care where he’s going, I just know I have to catch up to him.

He’s faster than me, he has such long legs that I end up running after him. When I finally catch him I grab him by the arm and he comes to a screeching halt.

“Don’t do this, Simon.” 

I don’t understand. I tell him.

“I don’t understand what’s going on.” He turns to me and his gray eyes don’t look cold anymore, they look sad and filled with anxiety. I need to know why.

“If I tell you you’re going to stop talking to me.”

“You don’t know that,” I try to argue but he just chuckles sadly and looks away.

“You really want to know?” He asks with a broken voice, and I see a tear roll down his cheek. I hesitate, but then I nod. Something inside of me is breaking when he looks like that, and I need to know what’s happening.

He looks at me a second longer as if he’s still deciding whether or not to tell me, and before I know it he crashes his lips into mine.

It catches me off guard, so much that I drop the bags to the ground. Baz is kissing me, and soon after I find myself kissing him back.

His lips are soft, and when our lips slot I can feel the smell of his minty breath. His hands come up to my hair, his fingers tangled in my curls. I fumble to get my hands on his waist because I don’t know where else to put them. 

When I feel his tongue meet mine I gasp into his mouth. Kissing Agatha never felt like this.

I don’t realize he has me backing up until I feel the cold stone hit my back, but I don’t care. He’s so close and still it’s _not close enough_. 

When we break apart for air I’m panting, hard. I can’t believe that just happened.

“You kissed me back,” Baz says quietly, he’s still so close and I feel his warm breath against my lips. I don’t dare open my eyes.

“Yeah,” is all I can say. I’m still trying to catch my breath. I didn’t know I wanted to kiss him, but now that I have I feel desperate to feel his lips on mine again. Luckily for me, his lips are back on mine in an instant.

His hands travel from my hair down to my neck, one thumb stroking my cheek. I sigh at his soft touch and open my mouth for him to claim it; he does. 

I don’t know how long we stand there devouring each other, but when I start to feel faint I pull back and lean my head back against the wall behind me. I’m still panting when I feel Baz card his fingers through my hair.

“If I had known that you’d kiss me back I would have done this sooner,” he says quietly. I can’t help but huff out a laugh. “I didn’t realize I wanted this until you kissed me,” I say between my pants and I finally manage to open my eyes.

Baz is taller than me, he always has been, so I have to look up to meet his gaze. He’s looking at me so intensely that I find my heart beating even faster - I didn’t think that was possible.

“I wanted to kiss you since the first day I saw you,” he says, almost as quiet as a whisper. I lick my lips. “That’s a long time,” I say and it’s his turn to laugh quietly. “Yeah.”

“S’that why you hit me?” I ask, and he looks away as I see the faintest trace of a blush creep over his cheeks. He nods and closes his eyes, and I see his eyebrows furrow. 

“I didn’t know how to handle my feelings, I had barely accepted the fact that I like guys,” he says and it’s my turn to let the pad of my thumb run over his cheek.

“That day, when I saw you kiss Agatha, I was so jealous and I didn’t see how I could get your attention other than with violence. I realized a little too late that that is the dumbest thing ever,” he confesses and I can’t help but agree, but I don’t say it out loud.

“I cannot believe you broke my nose out of jealousy,” I say and it makes him cringe. “Although I did it back to you sometime later.” I let myself trace his lips with my thumb and I can feel him melting into my touch. I can’t believe he’s wanted this, _me_ , for so long, 

“I’m so sorry, Simon,” he says, and his voice sounds so broken. My heart hurts. I cup his face in my hands and he looks at me.

“Me too.”


	11. BAZ

**Baz**

Even as we’re sitting in my car again, and my right hand is laced with his left hand, I’m having a hard time actually believing that any of this is happening.

We’re on our way to my house to talk. Me kissing him was such an impulse decision and neither of us really had any time to truly express any other feelings than regret regarding our countless fights and the want to kiss each other.

Simon Salisbury wants to kiss me. He did kiss me, several times for several minutes. I could die right now, and my life would still feel complete.

We don’t really say anything during the entire drive. It’s not awkward, at least I don’t think so. I keep running my thumb back and forth over the back of his hand and he squeezes my hand every other minute. It feels so good. 

When we get to my house it feels like we’ve already decided that we’re going to my room, but that’s probably because we never really go anywhere else. I don’t feel comfortable being with Simon in the common areas of the house - he’s mine, and I don’t want anyone to possibly interrupt us. This is not meant for anyone but us to take part in. 

We walk side by side quietly and my heart jumps when our hands bump together on our way to my room. I don’t know why such an innocent gesture still feels so intimate. It must be because I now know that he wants to kiss me, that he also has feelings for me even if he didn’t know so before today.

I don’t know how to go about this whole talk thing, and Simon doesn’t seem to know either. I look around in my room and realize that there’s not really a good spot for us to sit and talk. It feels as if sitting on the bed would be too intimate, but sitting across from each other at the desk seems too sterile. 

Somehow we end up sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed. His thigh is pressed up against mine, and the contact is enough for my heart to start beating faster again. My heart may never beat at a normal pace again after today. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Simon says quietly next to me, and I smile at the tentative voice. “I had no idea you felt this way about me.” I lean my head back against my bed and close my eyes. “I’ve been trying really hard to hide it from everybody, especially you. No one even knows I’m gay, besides you.” I bite my lip as I realize that I just lied without thinking about it. “Well, you and my Aunt Fiona. But she knew before I did, so that doesn’t count.”

Simon laughs softly beside me and I feel him pick up my hand in his. He’s running his fingers over my knuckles and then my palm, seemingly mapping out it’s every bump and curve. It feels good, and I feel embarrassed how even this innocent of touch makes me go crazy.

“How did she know before you did?” he asks as he continues to examine my hand. I have trouble focusing on forming words just because he’s touching me. I’m so far gone that even him just innocently touching my hands turns my world upside down.

“I don’t know. I just remember breaking down and admitting it to her and she told me she already knew. I was a complete mess since I had tried for a while to ignore it, but she was the only one I felt like I could talk to. We’ve always been pretty close, up until she moved away. She always seemed to know me better than I did.” 

I remember that day just as clearly as if it happened just yesterday. 

I had only come to realize my being gay a couple of weeks before and I had tried to do some research on the subject. I watched some videos that, to be completely honest, kind of scared me and turned me on all at the same time and I was so confused. Homosexuality wasn’t exactly a popular topic in our household, or anywhere really. It frightened me to realize how much homophobia was present in the world, and I didn’t have any idea how my family would react. 

When I was visiting Fiona over a weekend I was trying to figure out if I could tell her or not when one night she just asked me what was wrong. I couldn’t hold it in, and I just blurted out ‘I think I’m gay!’ and she looked at me as if that was the most obvious thing in the whole world.

I tell Simon about that day, and he listens intently. He never interrupts, and when I finish he lays his head on my shoulder. The action is so small, yet it means the world to me.

“I’ve never even considered the possibility of me being even interested in guys,” he mumbles softly and I don’t answer. I don’t want to pressure him into sharing anything with me, but it seems like he’s preparing himself to continue.

“I do remember it being sort of a red flag with Agatha when we used to kiss and I didn’t really feel anything. Well, I didn’t feel ‘nothing’, but it definitely didn’t feel like how it felt kissing you.” I can’t help but smile at that and he nudges my shoulder with his as to tell me to piss off.

“I remember when we first started dating. I couldn’t really believe that someone like her could be interested in me, and honestly, I agreed to go on a date with her more so because I felt as if I could fit in better if I did. It worked, and I convinced myself that I liked her. I do like her, but it was never really in a romantic way. When we-” He stops himself, and I can see in my peripheral vision that his face turns red. Oh.

“Simon, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I say in hopes of calming him down, but the blush doesn’t fade. He seems determined to tell me though because his hand firmly grasps mine and he takes a deep breath.

“I want to, it’s just embarrassing.” I can’t help but smile, he’s adorable.

“A couple of weeks before we broke up we tried to have sex for the first time. I think that’s also a red flag - three years together and I never really felt the need to be intimate with her. But when we tried it felt awkward, and it was really bad. That’s when I really accepted the fact that I had no romantic feelings towards her.”

I listen carefully to every word, and even though a pang of jealousy shoots through my chest I know there’s no reason to become all territorial. I can’t help but bring his hand up to my lips for just the smallest of pecks though, and I see him smile softly. I’m so weak for him, it’s pathetic.

“I didn’t think it was because I might be into guys, though. I just thought that I wasn’t into Agatha specifically.” He sounds as if he’s still trying to figure things out, and I hope he doesn’t feel pressured to do it right now because of me.

“If you need time to think about us, or anything really, just let me know. I’ve waited for three years, so if you need space I can wait as long as you like.” Simon snorts at that and it’s my turn to blush. “Stop that, I don’t need space. We might as well figure this out together, alright?” I can only nod at that.

“I don’t know if I’m even gay or bi or whatever, I haven’t ever considered it. How did you realize it?” He asks me as he snuggles his head further into my neck. It makes me shiver and the hair on my body stands up. Everything he does affects me so deeply, it’s almost scary.

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” I mumble, and to try and stall for more time I comb my hair with my fingers as if I’m in deep thought. “Well, I think it’s only right for you to tell me since I just told you something embarrassing.” I laugh and he chuckles beside me, and I know he’s right. 

“I, um,” I start and I feel my cheeks heat up. “I was kind of obsessed with the Harry Potter books and movies, especially Tom Felton as Malfoy. I, uh, had posters up on my wall and one night as I was laying in bed I kind of got motivated, to um,” I can’t continue, I feel like I’m dying from embarrassment and I hide my face in my hands. 

I can’t believe I just admitted to wanking to a poster. I can’t face him. 

“Hey, no, stop that,” he says and tries to pry my hands off of my face. I let him, I can’t deny him anything in this world, but I sure as hell can’t look him in the eyes right now. Is it possible to die from embarrassment? 

It isn’t until I feel his lips on mine that I relax again. His hands cup my face, just like he did earlier, and it feels so genuine and pure that I almost get emotional all over again. I kiss him back, almost desperately. It makes me feel alive in a way I’ve never experienced before. I have kissed people before, but not like this. It’s all been through dares or games of spin the bottle and they’ve all been kind of bad, so this is new territory for me. 

He’s a really good kisser, I concluded that the moment our lips met earlier. But the fact that I get to keep kissing him and experience his expertise in this field is mind-blowing. 

When he suddenly breaks the kiss I almost protest, but then his lips are suddenly connected to my neck. I gasp at the sudden contact and I can’t stop myself from letting my head fall back, exposing my neck further. Simon seems to be spurred on by this, and his lips travel over my jawline, nipping and sucking as he moves ever so slightly. I almost instantly begin to pant and I desperately grab a hold of his shirt with one hand, and the other finds its way to his curls.

His hair is so soft, even though I have a feeling he doesn’t care for it properly. He doesn’t feel like the type to care about hair care. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t need to when his hair is so naturally perfect. I let my fingers tangle in his locks as I tried to keep breathing as he kissed my neck. It feels so good.

When he finds his way back to my lips I kiss him hungrily. When he moves to sit in front of me on his knees on either side of me I can’t stop a moan from escaping me and I hope he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t seem too bothered since he only moves closer, and I wonder how he can be so confident in his moves despite not knowing he wanted this up until today.

Before things get too heated I decide to pull back slightly. When I open my eyes I find Simon looking back at me, his pupils are blown and his eyes are glossy and it turns me on, even more, to see how much our kiss affected him too. 

“You’re beautiful,” I say before I can stop myself, and I hold my breath. What if he thinks that was too much? My worries melt away when he smiles shyly and looks down. “I’m not, but thanks,” he mumbles and I find myself softly grabbing his chin to make him look at me again.

“Does it look like I’m lying?” I say quietly before stroking his hair away from his eyes. The blush on his cheeks makes him look so innocent, despite our previous activities proving he’s not. He shakes his head slowly, but the blush doesn’t go away. I want to lick it. I don’t dare to.

We take a break from talking and decide to watch a movie. We sit on my bed with my laptop in front of us. I’m too nervous to sit right next to him, so there’s a slightly awkward gap between us. I don’t know how to make a move, so I just stare at the screen. I barely even watch it, I’m too busy listening to Simon breathing beside me. 

A couple of minutes in I feel his fingers touch mine. My heart starts to beat faster again. It’s weird how such an innocent act can make my heart race just as much as it does when we kiss. I’m so in love with him that everything he does affects me greatly.

As our fingers laced together I heard him take a deep breath, but somehow I feel like heäs preparing to say something. I’m right.

“I don’t think I’m ready to publicly say I like guys, yet.” 

I pause the movie, I don’t think any of us were really watching it, to begin with, and turn my full attention to Simon. He looks nervous, it’s clearly present in his ordinary, blue eyes. I can’t say that I’m surprised.

“Don’t worry about that, this can stay between us for the time being. I’ve known I’m gay for years and I still haven’t come out, so I could never ask that of you.” The tension in his face and shoulders seems to release to some extent. 

“Are you sure?” I can’t help but let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, of course, Simon. Besides, it’s kind of hot to have our own little secret, don’t you think?” His blush intensifies and I chuckle. 

Public or not, I am the luckiest man alive. I just know it.


	12. SIMON

**Simon**

When Baz drops me off that night he even steps out of the car. He hasn’t done that before. He closes the car door after I get out and follows me to the door. My heart is in my throat.

“I hope you sleep well,” he says but he doesn’t leave. I look around quickly, but I find that we’re alone and since it’s already getting dark I take the risk of leaning forward to kiss him. It’s quick, but it still leaves me breathless. Baz smiles. I really like his smile.

“You too,” I say before opening the door. Before I close it I quickly peck him again on the lips. When I close it behind me I lean back against it and lick my lips. I hope no one saw, I don’t think anyone did, but it still felt risky. I wish I didn’t feel the need to hide, but this is all so new, so sudden.

When I walk into the kitchen Ebb is standing at the stove. She’s humming along to the radio as she stirred what looks to be a pot of chili. It smells delicious and my stomach growls. Ebb spins around at the sound and laughs.

“Hiya, Simon, didn’t hear you get in. Sounds like you’re hungry!” I laugh, too. “Yeah, starving,” I say before going to put away my bags and wash my hands. 

I don’t know if I should tell her about today, about me and Baz. I probably will eventually, lying to her feels wrong, but I haven’t even had the time to process any of this for myself yet. Telling her now serves no purpose, who knows if this is something that will even last. I end up only telling her I was with Baz, but I don’t tell her that he bought me clothes. I just told her there was a massive sale. And with Ebb being Ebb, she doesn’t question it. 

When I get to my room after having dinner with Ebb I lay down on my bed and check my phone. I haven’t really looked at it the whole afternoon, I was too busy with Baz. I realize that Penny has been texting me throughout the afternoon and I feel so guilty for not having answered her.

As I’m reading the texts, another one pops up.  
Penny, 19.01

_Are you ignoring me Si?_

I feel awful.

Simon, 19.02

_im sososososo sorry pen havent checked my phone_

Penny, 19.02

_What the fuck have you been doing that kept you so busy?_

I didn’t tell Ebb, so now I feel like it would be just as wrong for me to tell Pen. Plus, I would have to ask Baz first because I would never tell anyone behind his back.

I decide to tell as much of the truth as I can.

Simon, 19.04

_Baz helped me pick out some new clothes after school_

I wonder why she’s not answering. Not soon thereafter my phone starts to vibrate in my hand and Penny’s name pops up on the screen.

“You went shopping? With Baz? That doesn’t sound like you at all, Si. What’s going on?” 

She doesn’t even say hello before she starts questioning me. She sounds suspicious and I hope she doesn’t figure it all out.

“Well, we were at the museum for the project sitting in the clothing part and I tried to make it less awkward by asking him about clothes because he seemed to be genuinely interested and it ended up with him offering to help me find some clothes that I actually like. You know that Ebb usually buys me stuff and I just wear the first thing I see and I guess he wanted to help me get some new things.”

Did I go too much into detail? Am I being obvious?

“He just offered to help you with your poor fashion sense? Just like that? I don’t know, Simon. I know you’ve been civil to each other when working on the project but do you really think he did this out of the goodness of his heart?” I actually feel hurt by her words, but I don’t know how to defend him without raising more suspicion.

“He actually told me he wanted to apologize for his behavior these past years. He said he didn’t know how to do so and that he wanted to do something for me to say it without words, you know.” I almost tell her about the fact that he paid for it all, but I think that would raise even more red flags in her mind.

“So you’re telling me that Baz, Basilton Grimm-Pitch, wanted to make amends by taking you shopping?” It sounds dumb as she says it, and I feel the blush making its way to my cheeks again. I need to learn how to control that.

“Yeah,” is all I can say, and I can almost hear how the cogs are turning in her brain. “Well, if we get past the part of this being extremely out of character, did you find something you like?”

I can’t help but smile as I think back to earlier, remembering how confident I felt in all the outfits he picked out for me. 

“Yeah, I actually did. He’s really good at choosing things that go together. I mean, I don’t really know what goes with what, but he told me what shirts to try on with which pants, and I liked almost everything he found for me.” My heart swells at the memory. He put in such an effort and it actually made me feel more special than I ever have before.

“Well, then you have to send me pics of your new outfits. I don’t know about clothes, as you know, but if you like them so much I might as well show some support in the midst of suspicion.” I snort, I guess that makes sense.

“I can show you some in a while, sure,” I say and I can’t help but grin as I do. Not much later we hung up with me promising to send pictures of all of my new outfits. I know she doesn’t care how I look or what clothes I wear, but this is her way of showing me some support.

I know that this new development between me and Baz is strange, it’s still kind of strange for me, too. It’s kind of sudden - two weeks is not a very long time. I can’t explain how everything happened so fast, but somehow us hanging out because of the project prove to come more natural than I could ever have expected. I can’t even lie to myself, even before today I had found myself enjoying Baz’s company. 

I choose to put on the black slacks and the turtleneck again to take a picture. I feel awkward standing in front of my mirror, I never really take pictures of myself. I barely ever take photos at all, but I have to admit that I really like these clothes and it makes me feel the tiniest bit more comfortable. 

It’s a last-second choice, but I decide to not only send the picture to Pen but to Baz, too. 

Baz answers almost instantly.

Baz, 19.33

_You look so good, Simon._

The butterflies in my stomach once again come to life and I feel myself blushing.

Simon, 19.34

_thnx to you i do_

Baz, 19.35

_I’m not just talking about the clothes._

My face flushes a dark red and I feel my heart beating in my throat.

Simon, 19.36

_stop that ur makin me blush bastard_

Baz, 19.36

_Then I completed my mission. ;)_

That little winky face has me breathing harder and I didn’t know I could be so weak. I never felt this way when talking to Agatha, She used to give me compliments, too, but I never felt faint when she did. It felt nice, of course, it did, but this is different. His words affect me in a way that I can’t explain.

This is when Penny suddenly decides to answer as well.

Penny, 19.37

_Wtf Simon you look so fancy_

Simon, 19.38

_in a good or bad way pen_

I’m getting nervous, what if she thinks I’m trying to copy Baz’s style completely or something. I like the way he dresses, but he chose clothes with more color for me than he usually wears. But yeah, it does look like something he could wear.

Penny, 19.40

_Well, I can tell Baz chose it, but it suits you really well. I like the blue color on you._

I let a deep breath slip my lips. I can’t help but smile.

Simon, 19.41

_thnx pen_

I stand in front of the mirror again and smooth out the fabric of the pants. I feel like I have more confidence, but that must be because I actually like these clothes. The clothes I usually wear are okay, they’re good, but just as Baz said they’re not very _me_. I’m not going to stop wearing them all together though, I didn’t buy an entirely new wardrobe, but I do know that I now have the option to actually put some thought into what I wear and leave the house knowing I look good. 

I’ve never been very focused on my appearance - I’ve had the same haircut for I don’t even know how long and I never, ever try to tame it. I usually wear the same pair of vans every day, too. I haven’t tried to focus on my clothing either. With the limited amount of money I have to spend each month clothes have never been a priority.

All I know is that Baz has helped me build my confidence so much in only one day. I can’t thank him enough.


	13. BAZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> datedatedatedate

**Baz**

When I wake up I feel more rested than I have felt in years. I fell asleep with a smile on my face and I slept through the night like a baby. All because of me coming clean to Simon about my feelings.

Yesterday was a fucking roller coaster to be quite frank. I don’t know how I was able to kiss him, but I also felt like I had no choice. How could I ever have explained why I was so upset about what had happened?

I’m still trying to process the fact that Simon somehow likes me back. When I kissed him there was a brief second where he didn’t kiss me back and I felt the world crumble beneath my feet, but when I suddenly felt his lips start to move I might as well have been flying. It was so surreal, I fully expected him to push me off of him in disgust or just straight protest. I still can’t believe any of what happened.

Kissing Simon was the most wonderful thing I ever experienced. His lips tasted of chocolate and he constantly smells like butter and cinnamon and it flooded my senses making me see stars. 

I want to kiss him again. I am desperate to kiss him again. That’s why I decide to text him.

Baz, 8.33

_Good morning, Simon. I don’t know if you’re awake yet, but I wanted to ask you if you’d like to do something with me today?_

To my surprise, I only have to wait a few short (yet agonizing) minutes before my screen lights up with a text from Simon.

Simon, 8.38

_morning, making scones :) and yes pls_

My heart flutters. He’s adorable and I love him more for each second that passes. 

Baz, 8.39

_Anything special you’d like to do? We can do whatever you want, it’s up to you._

Simon, 8.41

_picnic w scones_

His short answers are more than enough to make my heart skip and I love the idea of having a picnic with the one and only Simon Salisbury. I don’t know why, but it wasn’t a suggestion that I was expecting to hear, but it’s more than welcome. Picnics are romantic, and Simon wants to do it with me. I wonder if he’s bringing the scones he’s making right now?

Baz, 8.43

_How about I pick you up around noon? Lunch picnic._

Simon, 8,44

_sounds good miss u xx_

Simon is going to be the death of me. He _misses_ me? I mean, I miss him, too, but I’m the one that’s been pining after him for so long that I didn’t think he would ever be the one missing me. 

Baz, 8,45

_I miss you, too, Simon._

After I hit send on my text telling him I miss him too I actually put my phone down. If I don’t I might just stare at it watching the minutes go by. Instead, I decide to make a cup of coffee (I’d die without coffee) and start thinking about what I should wear. 

A picnic is casual, but I still want to look good. Not for me, but for Simon. I know he puts that much thought into neither his nor others' appearance, but I want to look good when I go on a date. My first ever date. Who would have known I would actually go on a date with the guy I’ve loved for three years? Not me.

After pouring my coffee I go straight back to my room. I barely say hi to my father and Daphne, I’m too busy thinking of what I should wear to care. I open my wardrobe and stare at the clothes, most of them black or dark toned. It seems as black would be too dark for how I am feeling. My insides are currently slathered in rainbows and glitter because of how happy I feel. 

I try on outfits for over an hour (making sure to always fold away and hang up the clothes I’ve tried on, of course) before finally deciding on a simple but classic look; black skinny jeans and a slightly see-through, white dress shirt. Going all black felt too ordinary, I almost always wear all black, and I wanted to wear something ‘special’ for Simon. I hope he likes it.

It’s almost ten before I decide to get something small to eat for breakfast. I’m never really hungry in the mornings when I wake up, but I also don’t want to be too hungry for our picnic. A small snack now will stop me from devouring the picnic like a beast but still leave me hungry enough to enjoy the scones that I believe Simon is bringing. I realize that I never offered to bring anything, and with my cereal in hand, I quickly go back to my room to pull up my phone. 

Baz, 10.01

_What should I bring with me today?_

I start to eat my cereal silently, staring at my phone as if that is going to make him answer me faster. The minutes pass and I get more and more impatient. Almost 20 minutes later I finally got a response.

Simon, 10.18

_your smile_

I start blushing furiously and I actually have to lay down on my bed just in case I faint. I feel light-headed and I don’t know what I did to deserve this angel of a man to like me back.

Baz, 10.21

_Stop that..._

I don’t want him to stop, but I feel a need to make it seem as if I do. I realize the three dots don’t exactly make it sound like I mean it, and I realize he probably knows how much it affected me. The bastard knows how to make me blush already.

Simon, 18.22

_hmm no :)_

I love him.

When it’s finally time for me to leave I check nervously to make sure I have my keys, my phone, wallet etcetera. I feel like my nerves are going to make me forget everything, maybe even my name. I can’t believe my first day is about to happen, with _Simon_.

The drive to Simon’s home is almost painful - the traffic isn’t bad, but with every traffic stop or slow-moving car, I get antsier and antsier. My fingers drum on the wheel and my left foot is drumming against the footrest on the left side. I love driving automatic cars, such a hassle with having to deal with the clutch.

When I finally drive up to Simon’s house I do a last-minute check in the mirror to make sure my hair is okay and I smooth out the lapels of my coat. My hands are shaking.

I knock on the door twice before taking a step back. It feels as though my heart is about to jump out of my chest and my ears are ringing. I’m so excited whilst at the same time, I can’t help but feel anxiety run through me. What if the date doesn’t go well? What if Simon decides he doesn’t like me back after all? 

I’m so nervous and caught up in this anxious spiral that I jump when the door opens.

He looks so good and I feel my body almost vibrate.

He’s wearing one of the outfits I picked out for him. Navy blue slacks, a tight white tee with a rounded neck, and a black shirt jacket made out of wool. It’s simple, sure, but he makes it look so good I almost forget to breathe.

“Is something wrong? Did I pair the wrong things together?” Simon asks and I can see that he looks insecure. I realize that I’m just standing there, staring at him, without even saying hello.

“No, it’s just… You look… Wow.” I want to cover my face with my hands and disappear. Have I completely lost my ability to speak? Could I really not come up with anything better to say?

Simon doesn’t seem to mind that I’ve turned into some kind of empty-headed numpty because I can see a deep red color start to paint his beautiful cheekbones. I love it when he blushes, especially when I’m the one that causes it to happen.

“You look wow, too,” he says with a huff of a laugh following. I’m blushing now, too, so now we’re two idiots just smiling and blushing in front of each other. 

Simon breaks our eye contact when something seems to come over him. He turns around and I get a perfect view of his ass (I can’t help but look) as he bends down to pick something up. When he turns back around I see he has a bag and a blanket is spilling out of one of the sides. My heart flutters.

“I didn’t have a picnic basket so I had to take a bag, but, um, I made some more scones and brought some other things, too. I hope that’s okay,” he says sweetly and I want to kiss him so fucking bad and it physically hurts to restrain myself from doing so. Fuck, I wish we could kiss everywhere and anywhere without feeling judged, without telling the world our secret.

“It’s more than okay, Simon. It’s amazing.” He smiles brightly at me, and soon after we’re in my car. The picnic bag is loaded in the back, safely behind Simon’s seat so as to not tip over during the drive. I turn to him to ask where he thinks we should go when he suddenly grabs me by my coat and crashes our lips together.

It’s uncomfortable, kissing in a car like this. He's leaning so far over his ribs are probably getting poked by the shift stick, but he doesn’t seem to care. His lips are soft and warm, and he tastes so good, I don’t dare speak up about it being uncomfortable for him in fear of him backing up. Instead, I desperately hold onto him by his hair and neck and move my lips against his.

When we break apart we’re both panting and I can see him smiling. Not long after we take off.

I don’t know what I did to deserve this, to deserve _him._


	14. SIMON

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MENTION OF PANIC ATTACKS, PLEASE REFRAIN FROM READING IF IT WILL HARM YOU IN ANY WAY,
> 
> I hope all of you who are reading this, even if it's only one person, take care of yourselves. You deserve the best in the world, and mental health comes first over any job or school. Thank you all for reading. <3

**Simon**

I’ve been practically jumping all day since Baz asked to hang out with me. Now that I finally get to be beside him I couldn’t stop myself from reaching over to kiss him. I only realized yesterday what had been missing from my life, and now that I know what it is I need it like I need air in my lungs. 

When we started the drive to the spot I picked out for us (I want this to be as good as possible) I immediately searched for his hand and started to fiddle with his fingers to entertain myself. We don’t say much, but I relish in the fact that I get to admire him. 

As if it wasn’t enough that his face from the front was as magnificent as a marble statue, his profile is just as beautiful. His nose is a perfect slope, his lips pout out just slightly and his lashes are black and straight but longer than I realized before. His skin is smooth, not a blemish och even a single freckle in sight. If I didn’t know any better I would take him for someone that’s not supposed to be a hormonal teenager. 

When Baz parks the car I let go of his hand. I haven’t let go at all since we started driving. I didn’t want to, and Baz didn’t complain about it either. 

“I’ve never actually been out here,” Baz says as we exit the car. I pull out the overstuffed bag and hike it up on my shoulder before softly closing the door behind me. 

“I’ve been up here a few times when I’ve wanted to be alone for a while. I haven’t even told Pen about it. Plus, not many people come here,” I explain as I walk around the car to come up to Baz’s side as he locks the car.

It’s sort of a forgotten hiking trail on the outskirts of town, opposite from where Baz lives. I only know of it because my mom used to bring me here. I don’t remember much from those times, but I do know that whenever we needed a quick escape from my father this is where we would go. Sometimes we would go to grandma, but she died not too long after things started to go south with dad. This was our safe-place. And now I took Baz here.

I don’t know why I decided to reveal my hidden escape to Baz, but I wanted to be alone with him without actually having to hide out in his room. I don’t have the courage to tell me that my mom showed this place to me when she was still alive. Baz doesn’t even know that my mom is dead, the only one I’ve ever told is Penny. 

Obviously my father and Ebb know, but that’s because Ebb was close to my mother. She took me in and took care of me like I was her own son just so I wouldn’t have to end up in foster care. I’m so thankful for her and everything she’s done for me.

“No one really comes here, you say?” Baz says as he looks around and scans the terrain. The woods are tall and the road is empty. It makes butterflies stir in my stomach.

He takes my hand, which is innocent enough (I was sort of hoping for a searing make-out session, but I guess that’s something we’ll do later) before he looks me right in the eyes. His gray eyes look much brighter than I’ve gotten used to seeing them all these years, and I actually know that it’s because of me. 

“Let’s go to find somewhere to sit, okay?” I say and squeeze his hand before leading him down the trail. The spot where I usually sit and ignore my feelings and thoughts isn’t far away from the parking space. We only have to walk a few minutes before there’s a spot just off the track to the side. It’s almost near the end of a cliff, but some rocks outline the edge. It almost looks as if someone placed the rocks there, but I don’t know.

“This is beautiful, Simon.” Baz looks around, taking in the view over the town and I take in the view of him. How could it be that I never realized I had feelings for him until he kissed me?

Well, when I think about it, I did always feel _something_. Ever since I first saw him I was incredibly aware of his every move. After he hit me it was easy to play it off as just pure hatred, but there was always something behind my anger luring me closer to him, making me watch him with hawk-eyes. I think maybe I always had some sort of romantic feelings for him, but they were masked by the forced hatred. Is this possible?

While I wrestle with my inner thoughts I (reluctantly) let go of Baz’s hand and put the bag down on the ground. I pull out the blanket and try to lay it down as smoothly as possible. I start to unpack everything I brought - sour cherry scones _and_ regular scones, jams, and butter (a lot of butter, I love butter), coffee in one thermos for Baz and one thermos with tea for me. I even brought with me some cheese that I pre-sliced. 

When I finish taking out the butter knives and other utensils we might need I look up and find Baz staring at me. Well, staring sounds so aggressive, but he’s definitely looking at me intensely. I smile at him, and I see him look away and I wonder if he’s blushing. His reddish-gold skin sometimes makes it harder to tell if he’s blushing or not, but his body language is telling me that he is.

I instinctively walk over to him and tilt my head upwards. When we were fighting I always hated Baz being taller than me - I always felt so small next to him, it made me feel inferior. But as we stand in front of each other now, I find that the height difference doesn’t really matter to me anymore. Instead, I appreciate the way he has to tilt his head downwards to kiss me, as he does now, and I start to stand up on my tip-toes. 

His hands hold me steady on my waist as I let my hands go up around his neck. His skin is so soft under my fingers and I can’t help but let my thumbs stroke it slowly back and forth. He sighs into my mouth and I take advantage of it, sneaking my tongue into his mouth. His grip on my waist tightens and he pulls me closer. I’m currently relying on Baz to keep me upright, but I don’t think he minds.

The kiss is both feverish and sweet. He tastes of spearmint and coffee and he smells of cedar and bergamot. It’s intoxicating. Everything about him makes me feel drunk and before him, I never liked that feeling. I don’t drink, but I don’t think I can ever stop kissing Baz.

When we separate we’re both breathless and I can’t help but lick my lips.

“Let’s eat,” I say between pants before running my hands through his hair. Baz smiles so warmly at me it makes my insides boil in a good way.

We sit in front of each other, even though I would really want to just sit on top of him to be as close to him as possible. We start to eat and make small talk but I feel like I actually want to take this alone time to actually get to know him. Not just on the surface, but further inside.

“How’d you know about this place?” Baz asks softly. Fuck. I wanted to get to know _him_ better, and still he’s the one to ask questions with answers deeper than he probably would know. I look down on my hands and fiddle with the cup of tea in them (the cup being the lid of the thermos, genius fucking invention). 

“My mom, she used to take me here when I was younger.” I try to smile, but I can tell that Baz knows that something’s up. He looks at me silently, and I think he’s letting me decide if I want to delve further into the topic, or if I want to leave it at that. I never really want to talk about my mom and her death, however, I feel like if Baz is going to want to open up to me I might have to be the one to open up to him first. 

“She, uhm, she died not long before I moved here. Car-accident.” I don’t tell him that my dad was driving drunk, or that when he crashed into the other car he not only killed my mom but the passengers in the other car, too. I don’t tell him he’s still in prison, and I definitely don’t want to tell him we used to go here to escape his abuse - both verbal and physical. I don’t think I want him to know how truly broken I am. Besides, I don’t like to think about it. I don’t really like to think at all.

“I’m so sorry, Simon. I didn’t know.” His hand moves closer to mine, but he doesn’t take mine in his. I still feel as if he’s letting me decide, and I feel my heart swell. I really feel like he cares and that he understands. 

“My mom has passed, too, you know. She died when I was five when our house caught on fire. She died on the way to the hospital, after saving me.” So he does understand. I feel my chest tightening and suddenly I’m crying. I don’t know if it’s because of my past, or because of Baz and his past, but everything is just _too fucking much_ and I find it harder to breathe.

“Simon, love, look at me.” Baz puts his hand on my face, and I look at him, but he’s blurry. I hear the blood rush through my veins and I feel the sweat drip down my spine. I don’t know what’s happening. I gasp, desperate for air, but it feels like there’s no air left. Then he strokes my cheek, and my eyes lock on his. 

“You’re okay, love, everything’s okay. Take a deep breath in through your nose, hold it, then exhale through your mouth.” I do as he says, or at least I try to. “There you go, you’re doing so good, love. One more time.”

When my vision is no longer blurring and I finally feel as if I’m actually getting oxygen into my lungs I look at Baz. His eyes are filled with worry, but his face doesn’t give it away.

“How’s that? Better?” I nod before I recall something echoing in my ears.

“You called me love.” He exhales in a huff followed by a laugh before he pulls me into his arms. “I did,” he says and I hear him smiling as he holds me tight. I let myself be held, it actually feels so good, and we stay like that for I don’t even know how long.

“What was that?” I say after several minutes, maybe even so many as twenty. Baz is running his hands through my hair, separating curls and stroking my cheek every now and then. 

“I would say that was a panic attack, love.” He says it like he knows exactly what it’s like.

“I used to have them a lot before I went to therapy, you know. I don’t go anymore, but I still get them every now and then when things just get to be too much. I can only imagine how much you’ve had on your mind these past days, it’s no wonder talking about such heavy stuff would set you off.” He sounds so wise and smart and I think I might actually be falling for him, much harder than I originally had any idea I even could. 

“I didn’t tell you everything, about my mom and her accident,” I confess, but I still don’t know if I’m capable of telling him everything. “You don’t have to, Simon. If you ever want to, I’m here for you. But everything about this, us, is so new that I don’t want you to tell me things because you feel like you have to. Okay?” 

I nod, before burying my head into his chest again. I listen to his even breaths, feeling his chest move up and down. 

Baz starts to talk about the project, probably to bring the conversation back to safer grounds. The project isn’t new and terrifying, it’s not too deep or too sensitive, it’s bland and boring - but it’s safe. The tension in my body relieves with every second and I find myself talking more freely with every minute that passes. Soon enough I’m laughing again and when he playfully pokes me in the ribs I retort by shoving him against the ground before kissing him, hard.

Kissing Baz feels safe, too. The first time was absolutely terrifying, no doubt about it. But now, even though very little time has passed since then, it feels truly safe and almost has a healing effect on me. At least it’s calming but mostly exciting. And arousing. But that last part I try not to think about, as I usually try not to think about things that seem hard to think about.

We lay next to each other as the afternoon sun washes over us. Soon the weather will truly go to shit and I’m glad that we’re actually outside on one of the last sunny days before autumn. It’s a bit chilly outside, sure, but with Baz laying beside me on the picnic blanket I feel just as warm as if it was mid-July. His body temperature isn’t what warms me though (he’s actually kind of cool to the touch), but it’s the constant kissing and the hands over my body and his soft gasps that make me feel hot all over. 

It’s all so spectacularly cheezy and rom-com-esque and I find myself not wanting to give two fucks about it, because I feel _happy_.


	15. BAZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this feels like a filler chapter but idk...

**Baz**

I still feel as if Simon is the sun, and my world very clearly revolves around him. Now, as we lay together, he warms me up with his rays just like the sun does - his rays being his hands, and his lips, his gasps, and his small breaths. Everything about him is scorching and I love it. 

When one of his hands starts to travel over my body, painfully slow, I feel my breath hitch. It travels down my front, over my heaving chest and his nails catch at the buttons of my shirt. He strokes my stomach and I don’t know why but it feels _so good_ and I actually moan. It’s embarrassing, he’s literally just stroking my stomach and I’m turning into a shivering mess. 

I feel like he’s kissing me to distract us both from our earlier conversation, and his apparent panic attack. I know how draining they can be, but I don’t think Simon wants to talk about it. Not that I mind our current activity, but I hate knowing that he’s hurting but not actually knowing what to do about it. He even told me that he didn’t spill everything about his mother’s death, I know he’s withholding things, but I don’t take it personally. It’s probably something big and he’s just not ready to tell me. The fact that he even told me about his mom being dead at all is really big, and I feel so trusted. 

I find myself losing focus on what’s happening, and Simon seems to realize, too. He suddenly wins back my full attention by straddling my hips and pinning me to the ground, one leg on each side of me. When he looks at me, our faces only a few inches apart, I can see that his pupils are blown and his lips are swollen and deliciously pink. I want to devour him.

He crashes his lips back onto mine and I meet him halfway. My neck is straining from the effort of reaching his lips, but I really don’t care. It’s worth it. 

I feel myself starting to get more and more worked up. I don’t know if he can feel my reaction, but I know that if he moves just in the slightest bit he’ll feel me. It scares me, but it’s not like I can help it. With the way he’s currently sucking my tongue into his mouth and his hands groping my body I can’t help but react. It’s natural, and I am nothing but a horny teenager, to be fair.

When he moves not only do I know that he feels me but _I feel him_. He’s hard, just as hard as me, and the feeling of him against me is frightening and so, so, so fucking hot. My face is burning and my lungs are struggling to take in air and I don’t know if I can handle this.

Simon suddenly backs off, but still slowly. He sits back and I prop myself up on my elbows, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment.

“I’m not ready to-” He cuts off and I look back at him to see that he’s also blushing. “Me neither, don’t worry.” He lets out a nervous sigh before smiling. “Okay, good. I mean, that makes me feel better.” I smile, too, before sitting up as well. 

The idea of driving home with a raging hard-on isn’t exactly appealing, but neither I nor Simon is ready for a step like that, so I’ll just have to take care of it later when I’m at home, alone. 

We sit in front of each other from then on, even though my fingers itch to touch him and my body is clearly telling me to do so - but today is not the day. Instead, we just talk about nonsense and Simon eats yet another scone and slathers butter on it as if he needs it to survive.

We don’t kiss for the rest of the date. I really want to, but I’m afraid of going too far too fast again and I don’t want to pressure Simon and I don’t even feel like _I’m_ ready to do anything below the waist. It’s not that I don’t want to (I desperately do) but I haven’t done anything more than kiss before, so taking a step further feels scary. I’m guessing Simon feels the same way, but probably more because I’m a guy and have pretty different features than what he’s used to.

We talk, and talk, and talk until the sun is setting. I didn’t realize how long we’ve just been talking until the sun painted Simon a pretty golden color - more so than usual. 

We pack up our things and I realize that the scones have almost all been eaten (I’m guessing Simon ate more than I realized (how does he stay so fit with an appetite like that?)). The walk back to the car is just as short as before, but it still feels heavy. I don’t want it to be over, and I don’t want to leave Simon. But I know we have to go our separate ways for the night eventually, and I don’t want to be too clingy. It might be difficult, seeing as I’ve been longing for him for literally years and now I finally have him.

We don’t talk as much on the drive home. We’ve talked for so many hours that my throat is going dry. Simon’s worth it. 

Tonight I kiss him goodbye in the car, a sweet and slow kiss. I don’t want to risk getting too heated again. He smiles at me and his eyes sparkle before he closes the car door. I watch as he goes inside the house and I don't leave until I see that he’s safely inside. Not that his neighborhood is shady, I just want to be careful. If anything would ever happen to Simon I don’t know what I would do.

When I get home I immediately go to the shower. I rush through my shower routine before I have the best wank I’ve ever had. It went too fast and it wasn’t very good but just thinking of how hard Simon was against me earlier had me coming in under a minute.

I somehow feel both absolutely exhausted and full of life at the same time as I get out of the shower and flop down on my bed. My heart is full and I can’t stop smiling. I’m only broken out of my daydreaming when I hear my cell ring. 

_Fiona?_

“Long time, no call, boyo,” Fiona says before I even have the time to say hello. I can’t help but let a short laugh out. I can hear her smiling through the phone, it’s one of those fond smiles that she saves for me.  
“It’s not like you’ve tried to call before this, either,” I say even though I do feel guilty for not having called her in a while. I know she’s been busy, so I didn’t want to disturb her, but I guess living alone in a new city can be lonely, and I know she appreciates talking to me despite her best efforts to show it.

“I know, boyo. I’ve been busy and I didn’t want to bust in during the start of school,” she says and I know she doesn’t call that often because she doesn’t want to hover. It’s not really her style, even though I know she has some motherly instincts in her somewhere telling her to check up on me.

“Doing okay in school? Get into any of your famous fights recently?” This makes me suck in a sharp breath. I realize I haven’t told her about Simon, and I open my mouth ready to spill it all - but then I remember promising Simon to keep whatever we have between us. I can’t just spill it all to Fiona, even though I really want to. I think I have to talk to him about it.

“No, actually. You could say me and Simon have some sort of senior year-truce.” I think that’s a good lie, right? I hate lying to Fiona, plus, she usually knows when I’m not telling her the truth.

“A truce? I don’t know, B. Is that true?” Fuck.

“Well, we haven’t exactly discussed the matter, but we’ve been civil enough. I really don’t want to fuck up my face anymore, I like it too much.” 

“That does sound like you, the pretty bastard that you are,” she laughs and I let out a sigh of relief. 

“How about you? You’re playing nice at your new workplace?” I can almost see her roll her eyes. “Playing nice is boring, but I’m trying my best.” I believe her. I feel bad for lying to her already.

We talk for a while longer, she tells me about her work and I tell her about school. When we hang up I’ve decided to ask Simon if I can tell her about us, whatever us means. I don’t know if we’re boyfriends, we haven’t talked about it despite talking for hours today. I don’t know if I have the guts, to be honest. But I guess it wouldn’t be wrong to say that we’re dating - we were on a date today, after all.

I try to type a text message to him, but I keep deleting every draft I make. It feels so impersonal asking him over text, but at the same time, I don’t know if I can work up enough courage to ask him face to face.

All I know is that I have to ask him because lying to Fiona hurts. I can’t lie to the only person I trust most in this entire world. I just can’t.


	16. SIMON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> messy

**Simon**

Sunday passes before I know it, and when Monday rolls around I find myself excited to go to school. Since we hung out on Saturday, I didn’t have the courage to ask Baz to see me again, and he didn’t ask me either. At first I got paranoid, thinking he wasn’t actually okay with us not doing anything more than kissing. But when he told me he was stressed out over homework and would study all day I believed him. After all, I have homework to do, too, I just don’t do it on weekends.

Instead, I hung out with Penny at home. We watched some movies and I tried to sneakily text Baz when Penny went to the bathroom or to get us more drinks and snacks. I didn’t want her asking me who I was texting, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to lie to her face.

That’s why I’ve decided to ask Baz if I can tell her about us, possibly even Ebb. I hate lying, and I know I can trust them. I just don’t know if Baz does, even if I do.

When I see him stand by his locker looking as good as ever I panic for a second. However, I’ve already promised myself to ask, and if he says no then I just have to accept that. 

“Can we talk?” I say quietly whilst standing close enough for only him to hear me, but not close enough (or even facing him) for it to look too suspicious. I don’t know, I’m paranoid, okay?

He closes his locker and carefully places his bag over his shoulder (how can he look so good just doing that?) before nodding stiffly. If I didn’t know any better he looks worried, but I might be imagining it.

We walk together (well me slightly in front of him) through the hallways before going outside and around the building. I went out here once after our fights to cry because of how much it hurt to get punched in the jaw. That’s how I know there are no windows or anything to let people know we’re here (yes, I’m still very paranoid).

Baz stops and runs a hand through his hair before turning to look at me. I can tell he’s thinking of something, and I don’t want to blurt my question out so I let him go first.

“Do you not like me?”

I stare at Baz dumbly, mouth open and all. His face isn’t readable anymore, and I panic.

“No, I mean yes, um-“ I can’t believe how much I’m fucking up just because I can’t seem to fucking speak. “I like you, that’s not why I wanted to talk.” 

He lets out a deep sigh and I take his hand. “I really like you,” I say, trying to calm him down. Did he really think I was going to tell him I didn’t like him despite getting the hardest I’ve ever been just from kissing him on Saturday?

“Okay, then why did you want to talk? Are you okay?” He’s so sweet, one thumb brushing over my cheek. I can’t help but lean into his touch.

“It’s okay if you say no, but I was just wondering…” I swallow hard, I’m so nervous. I really want him to say yes. “Can I tell Penny and Ebb about us? I feel awful for lying to them.” 

He looks confused for a second, before nodding slowly.

“I was going to ask you the same thing, I really can’t lie to Fiona and I know she’s already suspicious after I told her we had some sort of truce. But, um, who’s Ebb?”

I panic. Shit. I never told him my dad’s in prison and that I live with Ebb.

“She’s the woman I live with,” I say before biting my lip. I can’t look him in the eye, I’m afraid I’ll say too much, but Baz grabs my chin like he did when I didn’t believe him when he said I was beautiful. 

“Tell them, it’s okay. If you trust them, so do I. And thank you for telling me, but you don’t have to explain why you live with this Ebb, okay?” 

I almost feel like crying when he leans down to rest his forehead against mine. 

“Okay,” I whisper before he quickly kisses me. When we break apart we both look around but no one is even close, so I sneak in another one. 

“And you’re okay with me telling Fiona, then?” he asks before fiddling with my curls. I huff out a short laugh. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

We don’t share the first class, so we go our separate ways and I meet up with Penny. She doesn’t ask me why I almost ran late, and we go about our day as if I wasn’t debating with myself how to tell her about me and Baz.

I ask her at lunch if we can go to Ebb’s café after school. Besides home that’s where I feel safest, and it feels like we can actually have a somewhat private conversation there. Plus, some scones would probably settle my nerves.

“What for? Special occasion?” She says as she stuffs her mouth with mashed potatoes. I don’t know what to say, I guess it’s kind of special? It’s definitely scary, but at least it’s special to me.

“I just wanna talk,” I say, hoping she would leave it at that. But of course, I’m talking to Penny and she doesn’t just leave things be.

“What about?” Fucking hell, Penny.

“I don’t want to talk about it here,” I say and she stops eating and looks up, her full attention at me.

“Are you alright?” She cares so much.

“Yeah, it’s nothing bad, just not something to talk about in the school cafeteria, okay?” She nods and smiles, but I know she’s already trying to figure it out in her head. That’s just what Penny does.

I walk around for the rest of the day feeling anxious and nervous and somehow a little excited. I keep feeling Penny’s eyes on me but I think this is one thing she won’t be able to figure out. I don’t think she could ever guess that Baz and I are kind of dating, it’s just so bizarre considering our past. If I wasn’t living it, I wouldn’t think it to be possible.

We walk to Ebbs after school side by side. Penny keeps talking about some paper she has to write for some class I’m not even in and I don’t really listen to her. I feel bad, but I still don’t know how to tell her.

“Hey, kiddos! The usual?” Ebb asks as we go up to the disk. Penny orders a scone, but I already know that Ebb’s picked out a sour cherry one for me as a part of my usual.

“Thanks, Ebb,” I say with a wide smile. I think I’ll wait to tell her tonight over dinner. I don’t think I can tell them both at the same time.

We go to ‘our’ table over by the corner, and I’m thankful Monday’s aren’t busy at Ebbs. It’s almost empty besides a stressed student and a couple sitting closely barely hiding their make-out session across the room.

I let Penny keep talking until we both get our orders and I know she knows I’m ready to tell her what I’m thinking about because she stops talking and brings her mug to her face. She’s waiting.

“I’m going to tell you, alright, but I need you to promise not to freak out, okay?” I say slowly, and Penny stares at me. “Don’t worry, Si. Just tell me,” she says, and she smiles sweetly. I know she’s worried even though I told her not to be.

“You know how I was with Baz last Friday?” She nods. “Well, I didn’t tell you, but he actually paid for all of the clothes.” She sips her coffee but doesn’t interrupt. Her stare is kind of freaky.

“And when I told him I couldn’t accept it, he told me that he wanted to say sorry for tormenting me all these years and he didn’t know how to so he wanted to give me the clothes.” She nods to show that she’s listening, but she still doesn’t say anything. My heart is racing and my hands are getting sweaty.

“He, um, tried to leave and I stopped him and he asked if I really wanted to know why he felt so bad about it all, and then he… He kissed me.”

I hold my breath, and Penny’s eyes go wide. I can tell she didn’t see that coming.

“Okay, so, what did you do, Simon?”

I gulp.

“I kissed him back.”

I didn’t think her eyes could get bigger, but even behind her purple glasses, I can see them open to their maximum capacity. She seems to have forgotten how to speak, and I start to sweat. She’s never been speechless before, at least not that I can recall. It makes me incredibly nervous, and I wonder what she’s thinking about.

“Why did you kiss him back? Do you like him? Simon he’s been torturing you for _three years_ , I don’t understand.” She sounds confused for real, and I don’t know how to explain it to her. I’m also confused to be completely honest, so trying to explain isn’t really on the table for me to do right now.

“I do, like him, I mean. It wasn’t until he kissed me that I sort of realized, I guess. Well, I always knew I was drawn to him but I always explained it to be anger and hate. But you know what happened with Agatha… I never felt the way I feel for Baz for her. I don’t know what’s going on and honestly, I’m kind of scared but I really like him, Penny.”

She looks at me, not saying anything, for a long time. It makes me incredibly anxious and I know she can tell, but she still doesn’t say anything. I expected her to be surprised, but I didn’t expect complete silence. It worries me, and I wonder if she thinks I’m a complete idiot for catching feelings for the very guy I supposedly hated since I moved here.

“If it wasn’t completely impossible I would think you might have been brainwashed or something, but if you say you really like him then okay. And guessing by the fact that he kissed you first, he likes you back and has for a while, correct?” I nod.

“Is that why he fought you? Because of his feelings for you?” I can only nod again.

“Okay, that I can buy. I didn’t take Baz to be that childish, but I guess we were all a bit more childish back then.” When she smiled I let out a shaky breath. Okay. This is going okay.

“We talked about it a couple of days ago. He explained that he hadn’t even accepted that he likes guys and when he realized he was into me he was scared and he got jealous when seeing Agatha and me and acted out. I feel bad for him, having to hide this for so long, you know?” I feel like I’m babbling, but it feels so good to get this off of my chest. I hate lying.

“I can’t even imagine.” She sounds sincere, and I know that despite this being a really weird situation she believes me. I love her so much, and I know she loves me too.

“So are you dating?” she asks, and I know she still feels weird about all of this, and still she’s trying to be supportive. She’s a really good friend, I feel so lucky to have her.

“We haven’t talked about a label or anything, but I guess we did sort of go on a date on Saturday.” She takes another sip of her coffee and I know she’s still trying to comprehend everything I’m saying, but she still smiles at me.

“Really? That’s fun. What did you guys do?”

We talk for quite a while after that, about everything Baz and my feelings for him. Before we go our separate ways she gives me the longest hug she’s literally ever given me.  
“Thank you for telling me, Simon.” She pushes her glasses up before giving me an elbow to the arm. I laugh and smile brightly at her. “See you at school tomorrow?” She nods before we part ways, and I feel so much lighter.

Now I just have to figure out how to tell Ebb.

It’s easier than I thought.

I blurt it out at dinner in the middle of one of her sentences. She goes quiet for a second, and then she laughs.

“I always knew there was something more hiding behind all of your fighting, kiddo. I didn’t necessarily think you liked each other, but it makes sense. Much more sense than you both constantly going after each other like that. I’m happy for you,” she says before ruffling my hair.

I almost cry, but I manage to stop any tears from actually spilling. 

“Thank you, Ebb. I know it’s weird and strange and all of that but, yeah… He’s really nice and so sweet to me.” She looks so fond, her eyes tearing up, too. She gets emotional very easily, and before I know it she’s sobbing and coming over to hug me tightly. I can barely breathe but I still let out a laugh and a sob.

I can’t believe how supportive they both were. I feel so loved.


	17. BAZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some kind of smut but like also not that graphic but u know... its getting there hehe

**Baz**

I don’t know how to tell Fiona about me and Simon. Simon told both Penny and Ebb the same day after we both said it was okay, and now it’s been a week and I haven’t even tried to call her. 

In my defense, I’ve been kind of preoccupied. I’ve been hanging out with Simon, and sometimes even Penny comes along, and school has been picking up its pace. I guess I kind of chose to become more preoccupied and social to avoid giving her that call. I don’t really know why I’m so scared to tell her, she knows that I’m gay and has seemingly known longer than even I have. But she also knows about my fights with Simon and she seemed suspicious of us just being civil to one another, so why would she believe that we went from fighting to dating?

It’s Sunday, and tomorrow it’s going to be a week without me telling Fiona. I don’t want to think about it right now, though. Simon is laying with his head on my chest, snoring, as I’m reading a book. We’re in my room, we still haven’t been to his house, but I don’t want to pressure him to go there yet. Instead, we’re having a quiet afternoon just being near each other. We’ve barely spoken, we just went upstairs and I started reading my book and Simon was playing on his phone when he suddenly fell asleep on top of me. 

I’ve been stuck on the same page for the last couple of minutes. I keep stopping to listen to his breathing and watching his eyes twitch as he dreams. I decide to put the book down, and I can’t help but just look at him. 

His curls are messy and cover most of his forehead. I count the freckles on his face, but I lose my place. I let my finger trace his eyebrow, then his cheekbone, down to his lips. When I let my thumb run over his lips his eyes fluttered open. They’re glossy and full of sleep and even though he woke up just now a smile forms on his lips.

“Are you watching me sleep? Creepy.” I laugh softly before flicking him on the nose. He sputters and sits up with a frown on his face. “Rude,” he says before leaning down to plant a firm kiss on my lips. I melt into him, and when he flicks my cheek I pull back in surprise.

“That’s what you get, you should have seen it coming.” He sticks out his tongue at me and it makes me laugh. I can’t even be annoyed with him, he’s too cute.

“Did you have a good nap?” I say as he lays down on me again, this time his body completely on top of mine. He nuzzles into my neck and even though it tickles I let him. He hums and I take it as a yes and I run my fingers through his hair. I feel so warm and everything is so _good_. I don’t understand how things turned out so well.

“Still haven’t told your aunt about us?” He asks sometime later, I honestly thought he fell asleep again and he snaps me out of my own thoughts. “No, I don’t know why but I just don’t know what to say. I feel like she won’t believe me, or something. We’ve been fighting for all these years and then suddenly we’re dating? It’s kind of ridiculous, honestly.” 

Simon sits up and I almost instantly feel colder. He’s like a personal heater and I miss feeling his weight on top of me. He’s still sort of sitting on my lap, but it’s not enough. I can never get enough of him.

“Call her, right now. You can’t ignore it, I know you want to. And I’m here to calm you down if it doesn’t go well, okay?” Simon strokes my cheeks and leans down to kiss me, and I feel myself give in. It’s embarrassing how soft I am for him, I would do absolutely anything for him.

Moments later the phone starts ringing and I put it up to my ear. Simon lays down on me like a human-weighted blanket and honestly it's kind of helping to keep my anxiety at bay. It doesn’t take long for Fiona to answer, and I open my mouth to say hello, but she cuts me off.

“Are you okay? You never call so soon after we just spoke last week. Is everything alright, boyo?” She would never admit out loud to being a worrying mother-type, but it makes me smile to hear her ask if I’m okay. I know she loves me. Why is this so hard?

“Yeah, it’s not something bad I just have to tell you something.”

She’s quiet and I don’t know how to start. Then I hear her take in a breath and I know she’s thinking of something.

“It’s about Simon and your truce, innit? I knew there was something more there. Did you tell him you like him?” I sputter and Simon is trying to hide his snickering into my chest.

“How the fuck do you know that I like him? What the fuck, Fiona?” I’ve never told anyone about my infatuation with Simon, but if someone were to figure it out I’m not that surprised that Fiona was the one to do it. Still, I didn’t think that she would.

“Oh, it was quite simple honestly. You’ve been obsessed with him for years, right? You’re not a violent person so I figured that your fighting came from insecurities of liking him, maybe jealousy. Am I right?” I think my silence is the answer she needs.

“Okay, so I was right. And this call, is it about that?”

“Yeah.”

I take a deep breath.

“We’re dating.” 

The silence stretches out and my heart starts beating too fast and I hold my breath. Simon seems to sense me tensing up and he starts soothingly running his hands up and down my side. I can breathe again.

“Oh, shit, he likes you back? Nice work, boyo. I’ll have to meet him the next time I visit you, you know, to threaten him that if he hurts you he’s a dead guy, and all that.” I choke out a laugh and I can hear Fiona’s smile through the phone.

“Okay, that sounds good.”

When we hang up a few minutes later Simon attacks me. He peppers small pecks all over my face before putting his arms around me in a bone-crushing hug. 

“You see how well that went? And you didn’t wanna call her, pfft,” he says before letting go and sitting back on his knees. He's still sitting on me, in my lap, and I look at him. He shines so bright and it warms me all over, his rays of sunshine make all my worries go away. I love him. 

“Thank you for being there,” I say and I fiddle with the fingers on one of his hands. I don’t have the guts to look him in the eye, I feel embarrassed for being so scared to tell the one person I know accepts me for me about us. 

“Of course, I’m here for you, always.”

I never thought I’d hear those words.

As to not cry I pull him down to me by the collar of his jumper and crash my lips into his. He kisses me back, instantly, and I relax further. I can’t believe how lucky I am.

His lips are soft and he tastes so good, I can’t get enough of kissing him. Simon moves closer and our chests bump together. I hold him tight and let my hands roam over his torso, and his hands find their way to my hair. He pulls on the hairband holding it up until it slips out of my hair and I don’t care that he throws it to the other side of my room because then he starts to tangle his fingers in my hair and I groan.

I don’t know how far Simon’s willing to go. I don’t know if I’m ready for anything too intimate, but right now every fiber of my being is begging me to touch him, to feel _all of him_. I don’t really think too much before letting my hands go under his jumper and he gasps into my mouth, but he doesn’t stop me. Instead, he kisses me harder, and I take that as him letting me touch him.

His skin is soft, and I can feel a couple of moles that are scattered over his back and front. He’s warm, and I wonder if he would let me take his jumper to not only feel him but to see him, too. Simon’s one step ahead of me, though - he actually lets go of my hair to pull the jumper over his head, and suddenly his chest is completely exposed.

His chest is just as flushed as his face and I can’t stop my hands from traveling over his tawny skin. He looks slightly embarrassed, but he doesn’t stop me. I wonder how he’s so fit despite eating enough for five people all the time. He’s not exactly a bodybuilder, but there’s enough muscle there and I like that his stomach is a little soft. It makes him feel more real.

I lean forward to give him a quick kiss, before trying to be bolder and let my lips travel down to his neck. Simon sighs and once again let his hands run through my hair. I take this as a good sign, and it makes me feel so much more confident. That must mean he likes what I’m doing, right?

I kiss one of the moles on his neck, before finding my way behind the shell of his ear and place a light kiss there. Goosebumps appear on his chest and I smile. I lightly nibble on his neck and kiss it after to soothe it, and I’m so in my own thoughts and wants that I barely notice how Simon is pulling on my shirt.

I pull back to see his face flushed and his eyes glossy. I would do anything for him, so I start to unbutton my shirt even though it makes me nervous. What if he doesn’t like what he sees?

Simon pushes my hands away and starts undoing the buttons himself, and his eagerness makes me more comfortable even though I feel as if my heart is going to beat out of my chest. When he finally has all the buttons open he lightly touches my chest, fingers slowly traveling over my skin making me shiver and pant all at the same time. 

He pulls me up so I’m not resting my back against the headboard anymore and quickly discards my shirt. I don’t know how someone who didn’t even know they were into men can be so confident through all of this, but I guess it helps that it’s not the first time he’s being intimate with someone. I’ve never done this before, and I feel so insecure but I don’t want Simon to know.

As if he senses my awkwardness he leans forward and kisses me so sweetly that I almost feel like crying. It’s strange how easily he can tell when I’m anxious, but maybe our endless fighting has led to us becoming sort of in tune with each other's tells. I know when he’s uncomfortable, or when he’s on the brink of going off. He knows when I’m anxious or uncomfortable. We just know. 

When Simon shifts in my lap I feel him, and I know he feels me. I gasp, he groans. It feels good, but it’s scary. He takes advantage of my open mouth and devours it and I didn’t think he would be this forward. I like it, though. I kind of like him taking control. It’s… kind of hot.

When he lets his hips grind forward I actually let a breathy moan slip and I can feel Simon smile against my lips. We said nothing below the waist, but does grinding count? We’re not naked or touching each other, so it shouldn’t count, right? It feels like Simon’s thinking the same as me because soon enough he grinds his hips forward again.

We’ve barely done anything but the friction is so good and I feel myself start to perspire. Simon tangles his fingers in my hair and my hands find their way to his hips. I desperately want to move them lower, but I don’t know if Simon would be okay with that. I think he realizes that I don’t have the guts, because he lets go of my hair and plants my hands directly on his ass. 

“Touch me,” he whispers into my mouth and I almost come from just that. He’s almost pornographic in his ways and I wonder how I never thought Simon could be like this before. He looks so innocent and pure, and here he is grinding his hips down and whispering into my mouth that he wants me to touch him. I like this side of him, more than I ever could imagine. He’s so hot.

His boldness makes me want to match him, so I experimentally squeeze his ass and he instinctively grinds them forward again. I feel the pressure building in my stomach and I realize that I might come like this. 

He kisses me hard, and he starts working his hips faster. I think he feels good too, and before I know it his hips stutter into mine. He groans into my mouth, and that’s all it takes to push me over the edge.


	18. SIMON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i swear its not going to be all fluff but I just want my boys to have some happy times together before I fuck it up for them

**Simon**

I slump forward and rest my forehead against Baz’s shoulder. The embarrassment washes over me, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I was never this forward with Agatha, but then again, I was never this turned on by her either. I always thought my sex drive was fairly low, I never really touched myself that much. But ever since I and Baz got together it feels as if it’s been non-stop. 

“I’m…sorry, I don’t-” Baz shuts me up with a kiss, and I wonder if he didn’t want to stop either. “No need to apologize, I would have stopped you if it wasn’t okay,” he says quietly. I smile softly and feel myself relax a bit. 

“We should probably clean up.”  
Baz lends me a pair of pajama bottoms as we both needed to wash our trousers. It feels kind of embarrassing, coming in my pants like a horny pervert. It feels better to know that Baz came too, but we don’t actually talk about it. Instead, Baz also puts on some other pants before going to throw our clothes in the wash. I sit on his bed with crossed legs, waiting. 

His pajama bottoms are really soft but too long for me. I actually rolled them up at the waist but otherwise, they fit pretty well. That makes me think that they’re too big for Baz, but probably the right length. He’s so tall and pretty thin, so I’m guessing he might have a hard time finding clothes that actually fit him properly. I do love his tight jeans, though; those fit him perfectly. 

When he walks back into the room I watch him. He crawls up next to me, and to my surprise, he doesn’t hesitate before laying down and pulling me down with him. His head ends up on my chest as I lay before on top of him. I like being this close, and I somehow feel very protective of him. I pull him close to me, and I can see him smile.

“Have you ever… done that before?”

I look down at him, surprised by his question, but he doesn’t look me in the eye. 

“Well, not exactly. I’ve only ever done stuff with Agatha, but never what we did.” I sense that he’s insecure, and I wonder if he’s ever done anything like that before. 

“Have you?” I ask, and I see him cringe.

“No, I’ve only kissed before.” Oh. 

“I don’t understand how that’s possible,” I say. “You’re so good looking, it doesn’t make sense that you haven’t done more than kiss…” This time Baz actually looks up at me.

“I was kind of preoccupied being obsessed with you to try and get with someone else,” he says and I swear I can see the blush on his cheeks gradually build up. It’s adorable.

I kiss him, again and again, and again. 

When my clothes are clean and dry it’s almost nighttime. Baz drops me off soon after and I feel like I’m walking on clouds. Ebb notices at dinner.

“You seem really happy, kiddo. I’m guessing you spent the day with Baz, then?” I try to speak, but my mouth is full of bread and soup. She laughs. I nod instead, and I can see how much she cares about me. It’s all in her eyes.

“I never saw you this happy when you were together with Agatha, but I’m guessing you've realized that yourself.” I nod, again. I seem to not be able to speak anymore. I just keep eating and nodding and smiling. Words can’t describe how I feel.

About a month later, I still feel just as giddy whenever I’m around him. I’m like an infatuated child. Because of how well everything is going, I’ve decided to invite Baz over to my house. It’s small, and kind of messy, and full of trinkets (a ceramic goat here or there) and I used to be embarrassed about it. I still don’t tell people about it, but that’s more because I don’t want people to know about my mom is dead and that my dad is in prison. But Baz knows that I live with Ebb, and he knows that my mom is dead. He might not know everything, but he’s shared so much with me that I think it’s time for me to share some more with him.

It’s Friday night, the night he’s supposed to come over. Ever since I got home from school I’ve been running around like a headless chicken trying to tidy up. I made sure that my room was presentable (how embarrassing if he saw how messy I am) before moving on to the rest of the house. I vacuumed the entire living room and kitchen and sorted the mail and magazines. When Ebb gets home I’m almost done with dinner, and she stops in the hall abruptly.

“Wow, Simon, it looks so clean in here. Have you been cleaning all afternoon?” I nod, but I don’t answer. Instead, I check on the potatoes in the oven. I love to cook, and I’m kind of good at it, but ‘good’ is not perfect, and I need everything to be perfect tonight. For Baz.

My heart starts beating hard when the sound of someone knocking on our front door reaches my ears. Ebb doesn’t even have time to put down her crossword puzzle before I’m at the door. I’ve been looking forward to spending more time with him all week. We’ve barely had time to see each other after school because of all our homework. It’s terrible.

I open the door, and there he is, looking as handsome as ever. He’s changed clothes since I saw him at school and he looks so fucking fit. He’s wearing a cream-colored button-up shirt with a floral pattern tucked into black slacks. His hair falls in soft waves over his shoulders and he looks so pretty. Pretty is not really a word I would usually use, but he’s not just a fit bloke - he’s beautiful.

“Hi,” he says slowly, and I realize I’m staring at him. I feel my face turn red as I step aside to let him in for the first time.

“Hi, come in, let me take your coat,” I force myself to say as he steps out of his shoes. He hands me his coat and I hang it up on the coat rack before I turn to Ebb. She’s put her crossword puzzle away, but I think she’s trying not to hover because she’s currently checking up on how the food is doing. I love her so much, she really wants the best for me.

“Ebb,” I say after taking Baz’s hand in mine and walking towards the kitchen. She turns around with a smile on her lips, and I feel my heart hammer in my chest. I hope she likes Baz. And I hope Baz likes her. They’re two of the most important people in my life, as well as Penny, so this really needs to go well.

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Basilton,” Baz says as he reaches out with his hand towards Ebb. I know Ebb is more of a hugger, but she respects his silent boundaries and shakes his hand. 

“Hello, Basilton. I’m Ebeneza, but you can call me Ebb. Simon has been telling me so much about you, so I’m happy we finally got to meet.”

I can’t look either of them in the eye. It feels embarrassing for Baz to know that I basically haven’t stopped blabbing about Baz after we started dating. She probably knows as much as me about him. 

I step away for a bit to check on the food, and Baz and Ebb sit down at the dining table. I try to listen to bits about their conversation, and to my surprise, they seem to actually get along well. They start to talk about books and I immediately zone out. I’ve never really liked reading, but I know that Baz loves books. His room is filled with them, and a lot of the time when we hang out he ends up reading. 

When I’ve put all the food on the table I actually have to clear my throat loudly to get them to snap out of their own little bubble. I feel bad for interrupting, but I don’t want the food to get cold.

“Let’s eat, yeah?” I say before sitting down next to Baz. I smile widely at them as we start to plate our food. 

The dinner goes well, and Baz and Ebb seem to like each other even more than I ever could have hoped for. I was honestly kind of hoping to get some alone time with Baz, and with some I mean a lot, but they keep talking and talking and talking. I don’t want to interrupt, so I start doing the dishes as we finish eating. Suddenly I feel Baz come up behind me, and he quickly kisses my cheek.

“Let me help, to thank you for dinner,” he says and I feel my heart swell. He’s so sweet, I didn’t think he was like this. If he hadn’t confessed that day I probably never would have known. I think I’m in love with him, and it scares me how quickly I fell. I never felt like this for Agatha, not even close. I cared a lot for her, and I still do, but not as much as I care for Baz. 

I let Baz take over (I even take a second to drool over the way he folds up his shirt) and I sit down with Ebb.

“I like him,” she says quietly, almost a whisper as to not let Baz here. The dining table is very close to the kitchen sink, but it’s still far enough for Baz to not hear. Besides, the running water should probably help with him not hearing. Not that what we're talking about is bad, but it still feels weird to talk about someone that’s in the same room as you.

“I can tell, and I can tell he likes you too. It makes me happy to see you get along so well,” I say, just as quietly as her. She puts her hand over mine and squeezes softly. This is too good to be true.

When Baz finishes the dishes we go to my room. I’m kind of nervous to show it to him, but it’s only right seeing as I’ve been to his more times than I can count. 

I plop down on my bed as he walks around.

“Is it okay if I look around?” He asks as his hand goes up to look at one of the participation medals I got when I was like five. It’s embarrassing that I kept it, now that I think of it. 

“Yeah, there’s not much to look at but of course,” I say as I lay on my side to look at him. His shirt is still folded up over his elbows and he pulls his hair up into a bun. Just doing something so ordinary like that makes me flustered and I have to bite my lip. Literally, everything about him makes me go crazy - It’s not so weird that I couldn’t stop myself from going off on him before. I feel like I’m about to go off right now but in a very different way.

He looks at the few pictures I have taped to the wall. Some are of Penny and me, others of Ebb and me. The last one is one of my mom, and technically my dad, but I ripped the photo apart after what happened. He smiles softly as he looks at her, before moving on. I’m thankful that he doesn’t ask about her, even though I will tell him more one day.

My eyes follow him as he moves around my small room. I don’t have a lot of things, but he seems to take his time looking at the things I actually have. I almost fall asleep just watching him, but then suddenly he sits with his legs on either side of me. 

“You’re not falling asleep on me right now, are you Simon?” 

His voice is soft, but his eyes are piercing. I’m suddenly very awake and he seems satisfied with my reaction. My face is heating up again as he leans down to press a soft kiss to my lips. I can’t get enough of kissing him, so I’m not complaining.

His thumbs stroked my cheeks and it’s such a sweet gesture that my heart starts beating harder just from that. He’s much more gentle than I thought he’d be, and I find myself liking it. Somehow I like it both when he’s soft with me, and when he takes control like just now when he literally straddled me to get my attention. I just like all of it, all of him.

“Thank you for dinner, it was very nice,” he says quietly as he combs my hair with his fingers. I close my eyes and let myself relish in the way it feels and I smile. “I’m happy you liked it.”

“There’s one thing I like more,” he says and I look at him. I feel tired, and I think my eyes convey it. I wish he could stay with me.

“Oh, yeah, what?” He smirks, and my heart starts to race.

“You.”


	19. BAZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is like sort of the first time I'm writing some sort of smut-chapter so please be kind lmao

**Baz**

I feel awkward being the one on top, but for once I wanted to be the one to take charge. 

As I’m the one on top, Simon is the one that seems to not be sure of where to place his hands. Right now, they’re on my hips, thumbs stroking in circles over my shirt. I wish we had fewer clothes on, but I don’t know if that’s taking things too far too soon.

My body temperature is rising quickly, I run cold - but never with Simon around. It doesn’t take much for me to overheat when it comes to Simon. It rises further as he starts to nip and lick at my neck and I can’t stop myself from letting my head loll back to give him further access. 

When he starts his assault right below my jaw I feel as if I’m about to explode. It’s amazing, of course. But a voice in the back of my head reminds me that Ebb is right on the other side of the door. I don’t think I’m comfortable getting all hot and heavy with her there, even though I’m pretty sure she’s not the type to eavesdrop.

I feel a pang of temporary sadness at the thought of having to stop these absolutely toe-curling activities, but that’s when it hits me - My house is empty. Daphne and Malcolm had taken all of my siblings to visit relatives, and I (unsurprisingly) declined. Don’t get me wrong, I care for my family, but I don’t feel a need to get together for more occasions than the mandatory holiday events.

“Simon, love,” I say quietly and he stops his previous activities and licks his lips. His eyes are glossy and his lips are red and I’m so turned on just from looking at him it’s insane.

“Do you want to sleep over at my house?” 

The silence after I ask him drags out and I feel myself get more and more anxious with every passing second. Then he surges up to kiss me hard, our teeth almost clashing together.

“Yes, fuck-” he says with a smile before kissing me hard again.

Ebb doesn’t stop Simon from going, neither does she tell us to not sleep in the same bed, but I feel like she knows why we’re leaving. I’m blushing and I hope she doesn’t think too much about it. It’s kind of embarrassing, but it’s also natural for a couple to want some alone time. 

On the ride home I’m so worked up I hardly even notice how hard I’m pushing down the gas pedal. 

I barely have time to lock the door behind us before Simon is on me. He drops his bag on the floor and pushes me up against the door. I can’t even complain as he starts his assault on my neck and my legs almost instantly give in.

He pulls on the arms of my coat almost impatiently and I shrug it off to let it fall to the floor. Simon does the same, and normally I would cringe at not hanging my coat up neatly. Right now, I hardly care. 

Simon's hands are on me in an instant and I sigh into his mouth. My arms snake around his neck, and his hands travel up the sides of my torso. Every part of me he touches feels like it’s burning and everything is _so good_.

“Let’s... My room, yeah?” I pant and Simon only kisses me hard; I take that as a yes. 

I don’t have the heart to leave our jackets on the floor, so in the rush to get to my room I hastily hook them on the coat rack and Simon grabs his bag. Then, we quickly move towards my room. I feel giddy as we almost run through the endless fucking hallways and I have never hated living in a large house so much before. 

I close the door behind us, and Simon once again lets his bag fall to the floor. When he kisses me again, it’s softer. Now that we’re here, alone, it doesn’t feel as important to rush anymore. I

Instead, I take my time to explore his mouth and he starts to softly pull my shirt out from my slacks. I don’t stop him, and I don’t stop him when he kisses my neck and starts to pick at the buttons of my shirt. I’m positive that even though it will be faint, he’s definitely going to leave a mark on my neck. I kind of like the idea of being marked by him, and I blush at the thought.

When my shirt is off Simon doesn’t hesitate to explore the newly exposed skin with both hands and lips. I’m practically shaking when he suddenly sucks a nipple into his mouth. I gasp, and I feel my cock start to fully harden. I didn’t know I was sensitive there. Simon looks as if he’s struck gold, and he starts to lick, and nip and suck on my nipple as if he’d die if he doesn’t.

When he lets go my nipple is red and even more sensitive, glistening from his saliva. I shouldn’t find it so hot, but I do. _Fuck._

I don’t even have to ask Simon to remove his shirt, he does it in one swift move on his own accord. When he kisses me and holds me close I feel his skin against mine and even just that skin-to-skin contact feels erotic. 

We don’t actually say anything, but somehow I feel like we’re communicating. We both gradually move towards my bed and when the back of my knees hits the bed frame I let myself topple over and land on my back on my bed. Simon looks down at me and his eyes are so dark and I can only take that as lust. I gulp.

As I back up until my back is against the bed frame behind me Simon crawls onto the bed until he’s sitting in my lap, one leg on either side of me. Somehow we almost always end up in this position.

“I’ve been doing some research,” Simon whispers before leaning forward and nipping at the shell of my ear. I shiver beneath him and I think he enjoys being in control. I don’t answer him, and he goes on.

“I’ve never been with a guy… But I wanted to know more about it.” I swallow, hard. Has he... been watching porn?

“All I could think about was you, no matter who I was watching” he whispers, before leaning forward and licking a stripe up my neck. 

Is it possible to die from being too turned on? I think I might at this rate. My pants are uncomfortably tight around my crotch and I’m desperate to get out of them, but I feel inclined to let Simon take the lead.

As if he could read my mind his hand lightly touches my erection. My hips strain to try and feel more pressure, but he pulls his hand away. I’m shaking from how hard I am and by the look of it Simon’s just as hard. How can he keep himself so collected?

He kisses me sweetly, and for a moment I’m distracted by his lips and tongue. But then I feel his hands start to open my fly. As the pressure lifts slightly I groan into his mouth. I can almost feel his grin and I realize that he likes this - he likes teasing me.

I let him pull my trousers off and toss them off the bed. I feel incredibly exposed, but then Simon sits back and starts to zip his jeans down. I watch intently and register the wet spot on his underwear and my heart thumps so loudly in my ears I think I might pass out. 

His jeans got thrown to the floor with a thud and suddenly we’re both almost completely naked and face to face. Simon's flush is covering his entire face down over his chest. I pull him down to me, kissing him hard. When our erections bump together I almost come just from that (I would die from embarrassment).

“I want more,” he whispers quietly into my mouth. “Not everything yet, but more.” I kiss him because I don’t think I’d be able to form any words right now. I hope he knows that I feel the same way.

When his hand suddenly makes its way down to my cock again I gasp. This time he slowly strokes up and down. It’s a strange feeling with my pants still on, but not bad. Nothing about this could ever be bad. 

I can hear his heart beating faster and faster, and I don’t know if it nerves or the situation in general or just everything about this. I don’t want to pressure him into doing anything, but he did say he wanted more, and he’s doing this on his own. 

I can’t believe that Simon wants this. Simon Salisbury wants _me_. 

Even though I’m more anxious and nervous than I think I have ever been I don’t stop him when he starts pulling my pants down my thighs. The air in the room feels cold against my achingly hard cock and goosebumps appear all over my body. 

I can’t bear to open my eyes and look at him, I’m too scared that he’s going to regret it all now. But then he leans down and kisses me, softer than he has all night, and I feel some of my nerves go away. I’m still jittery, but he’s good at calming me down. 

As we kiss, my pants somehow end up on the floor and I’m completely exposed. I try not to think about it, I am comfortable with my body, but I’ve never actually been naked in front of anyone else. It’s scary, but somehow exhilarating at the same time. It almost feels like some kind of adrenaline rush.

I don’t notice when Simon removes his own pants, I’m too busy kissing him and keeping my eyes shut to calm my nerves. But then suddenly he takes us both in one of his hands and slowly starts stroking our cocks up and down. I almost growl and my hips strain to go upwards, desperate to feel more. I suddenly feel an extreme need to look at Simon, and so I finally open my eyes.

Simon looks concentrated, and his face is red and I can see some sweat start to form as little beads on his forehead. I let my eyes drift down over his body and I can see his muscles moving. It’s making me salivate. And then, I look down between us. His hand is slowly stroking us both up and down, and I think it might be one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

Simon’s cock is big, bigger than mine since it’s more girthy. Mine is longer, but it’s not as impressive as his. It’s warm, and hard and soft at the same time, the tip flushed a dark red. The sight of him jerking us off at the same time is all it takes for me to tip over the edge, and without any warning, I come in the shortest amount of time known to mankind. I’m so embarrassed. 

Somehow Simon gets a hold of some article of his clothing and wipes me off. I hide my face with the back of my hand, but he pulls it away and smiles at me. His smile is warm and bright, and he yet again reminds me of the sun. Am I flying too close and about to get burned? I don’t care. If he’s the sun, then I’ll be Icarus. 

“I’m sorry, I-” I start, but Simon shuts me up with a kiss. For a moment I almost forget about the fact that Simon never got to finish, but when I start to realize how his hand is moving up and down his own length a pang of guilt hits me hard.

I let go of his lips, running a hand through his hair before letting my lips travel up to his ear. I mimic the way he licked and nibbled on the shell of my ear, and I hear a quivering breath escape his lips. Somehow I start to feel aroused again, just from hearing that alone.

“I want to make you feel good, too,” I say quietly, so quietly it’s almost a whisper. Simon whimpers and it spurred me on. He wants this, just as much as I.

Somehow it makes me feel more confident than I have since we started this whole thing. I know what I want to do, and hopefully, Simon wants that, too.

I keep kissing his neck, then his jaw, down to his chest. I trace his moles that are scattered all over his torso and I love them. It’s like he constantly carries constellations of stars over him wherever he goes. When I start to move lower, and lower, I think Simon realizes where I’m going with all this.

He sits up and looks down at me (I don’t remember when or how we switched positions) and I can see the muscles under his skin flexing with the movement. It’s almost enough to make me hard again.

“You don’t have to-” He stops mid-sentence, and I give him a small smile. “What if I want to?” He swallows hard, and the pink flush darkens into a deeper red, but he doesn’t stop me when I go back to kiss his stomach. It’s strange, feeling his muscles move under my lips but I can’t get enough of it, of him.

I’ve kind of avoided actually looking at my supposed target for this whole thing, but the lower I get the harder it gets to ignore Simon's fully hard cock proudly sticking up between us. My hands aren’t as stable as I’d wish, but I still wrap one palm around him and stroke softly up and down a few times. Simon groans and he lays an arm over his face as if to hide the effect it has on him. It makes me bold.

Without overthinking I lean forward and lick a stripe from the base of his cock up to the tip. I almost feel the vibration of his moan in my bones and almost has _me_ moaning in pleasure. I explore bit by bit of his length with my tongue, and if I thought his muscles were flexing before, now they’re clenched solid. 

I close my eyes and decide to just go for it. I wrap my lips around him and lower my head slowly. At first, there’s some sort of resistance, not from him, but from me. I think my nerves are making it harder, but when Simon's fingers tangle in my hair and he groans deeply I feel encouraged to keep going.

Soon enough I’m taking him in as far as I think is physically possible, and Simon is almost babbling. He constantly pants out words like fuck, shit, god, but my favorite is when he deeply moans out my name.

“Baz, fuck, I’m gonna-” Before I have the time to actually realize what he’s saying Simon comes. His groan is deafening and the shock has me swallowing before I can even think of whether or not to do so. 

As I sit up I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and Simon looks absolutely spent. Some of his curls are plastered against his forehead and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. He looks amazing, as always.

When I crawl up and lay down beside him, I feel kind of awkward. But then Simon pulls me flush to him and leans his forehead against mine. He still has his eyes closed, but I take the time to just admire his features. When he opens his eyes they’re actually shimmering like fucking diamonds or something, glossy and bluer than ever before. 

“I can’t believe that just happened, you’re so hot,” he whispers, the blush never leaving his face. I can’t help but blush, too. I honestly have a hard time believing that just happened, too. 

“I’ll have to repay the favor, someday,” Simon then whispers before leaning forward and kissing me. It’s slow and sweet, our bodies tangling together further. Before I realize it I’m almost falling asleep, but only when I hear Simon’s snores do I awaken enough to pull the duvet over us.

I could die right now and still feel completely content with my life. How is it that I get to be this happy?


End file.
